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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 






UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




M. I'abbe AMABLE BSeSAU. 






THE SPIRIT 



O F 



EDUCATION, 



BV ^- 



M. Pabbe AMABLE BEESAU, 

Cure de Saint-Louis-Des-Francais, a Moscou, Precedem- 
ment Chapelain de L' Ambassade de France 
a Saint-Petersburg, Camerier d'Hon- 
u ^ ^ ueur de S. S. Pie IX. 



^^>^, / 



TRANSLATED BY 



Mrs. E. M. Me CARTHy^ 



Published for the Translator, by > S^ K!'- 
C. W. BARDEEN, SYRACUSE, I^: Y. 
1881. 



r 



U"P 



TO THE PUBLIC. 



The volume of which an English translation is now for 
the first time offered, has for some years been considered 
at once the most eloquent and the most practical treatise 
upon education in the French language. The long experi- 
ence of the author, his earnest piety, and his felicity of 
illustration rendered him eminently fit to prepare a volume 
to which Catholics might look with confidence, and which 
they can not fail to read with interest and profit. In these 
days of rapid change, and almost morbid mental activity, 
we can not too zealously guard the education of our 
children; and the translator feels sure she offers to the 
English-speaking public a work which can not fail to assist 
all parents who will read it — a work which is fervent and 
yet conservative ; Catholic, yet unsectarian and universal. 

Hoping that teachers and parents and especially mothers 
may find in this work as much help as she has herself 
derived, the translator commends it to the public. 



CONTEJS^TS. 



NOTK I-: OF ArPKOlJATION V 

l^JiKFACE Xi 

CiiAi'TER 1. What Education Is - 17 

II. What Infancy Is 27 

III. Early Years 46 

IV. Youth 64 

V. The Intelligence 100 

VI. Education of the Heart 142 

VII. Education of the Will 18:> 

VIII. Physiology of Education 205 

IX. Education of the Manners 241 

X. Conversation 254 

XI. The Art of Speaking Well 266 

XII. Exterior Graces 277 

XIII. The Character 284 

XIV. Work 299 

Epilogue. 321 



Copyright, 1881, by Mrs. E. M. Mc Cartiij- 



NOTICES OF APPKOBATIOK 



APPROVED BY THEIR EMINENCES THE BISHOPS OF 
METZ AND BEAUVAIS. 

We have read with pleasure the work entitled 
the " Spirit of Education " hj Monsieur V Abbe 
Beesau. This book, to which the circumstances 
give special interest, is filled with judicious 
sketches, and is distinguished for its elegant sim- 
plicity of style, and for its appropriate quota- 
tions. Its perusal by all those engaged in the 
education of youth, as well as parents, and young 
people themselves, will be very useful. We all 
desire to see a work which presents the true 
principles of education in so just and attractive a 
manner placed in the hands of every family. 
M Paul, Bishop of Metz. 



vi notices of approbation. 

Joseph Armand Signoux, 

Bishop of Beauvais, J^oyon et Senlis. 

From the favorable report made to lis, we 
approve the work published by Monsieur I'Abbe 
Beesau, cure de St. Louis des Francais, in Mos- 
cow, under the title of " L' Esprit de 1' Edu- 
cation." 

In a moderate Christian language full of inter- 
est, the author has elucidated in a clear distinct 
plan, the principles that should preside over the 
education of youth. 

Tlie labor, we have the hope, will contribute, 
with the benediction of God, to the success of 
this excellent work, that Leibnitz calls so justly : 
" The Foundation of Human Happiness.'^ 

Given at Beauvais this 25th September, 1867, 

Joseph Armand, 
Bishop of Beauvais, ]N"oyon et Senlis. 

A letter from Llis Excellency the Duke of 
Montebello, Senator and former Embassador 
from France to the Court of St. Petersburgh, 
addressed to the author ; 



FROM THE DUKE OF MONTEBELLO. Vll 

MoNSiETTE l' Abbe : 

I thank yon for having sent me a copy of 
the new edition of yonr excellent book, " L' 
Esprit de 1' Edncation." 

In a volnme of inconsiderable size, and very 
attractive to the reader, yon have not only united 
all considerations capable of cultivating esteem 
for the great work of edncation, bnt have given 
direction to it, and inspired love for it. It is 
impossible to read your book and not feel com- 
pelled, as far as means and circumstances will 
permit, to instruct our children, who are, as you 
aptly remark, " The men of the future." 

Under a plan perfectly mature, you have suc- 
cessfully examined what should be the education 
of the intellect, the heart, the wdll, and even the 
manners ; and those things that miglit seem 
only accessory to education, such as the art of 
selecting choice and appropriate words to facili- 
tate and embellish the rare gift of fluency and 
elegance in conversation. You have joined to 
this the cultivation of exterior grace of manners, 



Vlll NOTICES OF APPROBATION. 

which is of the highest importance, for we im- 
mediately recognize the well-bred gentleman. 

Your work is impregnated with Christian and 
pious sentiments, yet readers less religiously dis- 
posed will peruse it with pleasure, because of the 
moderation by which it is characterised ; making 
it preferable to others which are more polemic. 
Be assured, the simple, flowing, brilliant manner 
in which this modest work is so well written, will 
place it beside works of greater volume but less 
accessible to all, and will materially aid in effect- 
ing a salutary influence. 

It pleases me much to have you say how much 
the truths of the Catechism, when it is well 
taught, offer as a source of cultivation to the 
hearts of children. 

At this page my memory naturally reverts to 
the time when we both lived in St. Petersburgh. 
My thoughts go back to the little improvised 
chapel belonging to the French colony, where 
you gave, be it in substantial direction to the faith- 
ful, or in catechism classes frequented with so 
much happiness by the French children, that 
precious instruction which you always made so 



FROM THE DITKE OF MONTEBELLO. IX 

interesting. Yon were then indeed engaged in 
the education of the numerous youths for whom 
you provided a real and lasting benefit, and for 
which they and their families preserve a lively 
gratitude. 

Education is still your theme to-day in Mos- 
cow, in that little church of '' St. Louis des Fran- 
cais," where our compatriots in the heart of 
Eussia ever find you in the centre of a family 
parish, proclaiming evangelical truths, and the 
free exercise of religious worship. Above all 
you are ever in the Parochial school— a generous 
and truly useful establishment, which, placed 
under your enlightened direction, has become 
another means of extending the influence you 



Monsieur 1' Abbe, without doubt your work 
will be well received in a country which needs 
men, and which understands that only through 
education are they to be obtained. All you have 
written upon this subject is summed up in the 
following few words which I read in your first 
chapter : 

''Education, when it is well understood and 



X NOTICES OF APPROBATION. 

founded upon a truly religious basis produces 
three most admirable effects, namely : it elevates 
man, cultivates in liim Christian character, and 
prepares him to become a Saint." 

This great and beautiful thought is perfectly 
developed throughout your excellent work. 

Please accej)t. Monsieur V Abl^e, with my 
thanks, the assurance of the esteem and sincere 
affection with which I have so long regarded you. 
Duke de Montebello. 

Mareuil-sur-Ay, 15th September, 1867. 



PKEFACE. 



The title of tliis work sufficiently indicates the 
end we have in view, to present the principles 
that should direct a good education. 

Education, like the construction of a building, 
is impossible without fundamental thought, 
design, and plan. To appearance this plan is of 
small consequence, while in reality it is of great 
importance ; in fact it is indispensable to make 
the structure regular, solid and durable. 

Education is a moral structure : an immense 
moral edifice, where thousands of workmen 
are called to sustain their share of effort and 
devotion, but of which the execution will not 
have unity, perfection and harmony, if each one 
does not work according to a given plan,- follow- 
ing out the same ideas under the inspection of 
the same spirit. 



Xll PREFACE. 

Certainly education does not consist in writing 
out a crude idea, any more than a plan erects 
the house. To instruct children is a work essen- 
tially practical, and which consists most of all in 
acting. Nevertheless there must be ideas to 
direct the work, a path by which to conduct it, 
a spirit to give it life. 

It seems to us, even, that but little can be 
written upon this important subject, outside of 
certain rules. For these in their applications are 
so numerous and variable, depending so much 
upon changes of circimistances, that one can 
neither foresee them nor trace them in advance. 
But what might prove singularly profitable, 
would be to sum up these principles by argument, 
and in this manner make a philosophy of educa- 
tion. Such is the object of this book. 

Here, as in the plan of an edifice, each part 
must occupy its own peculiar place ; but only to 
figure according to its importance, extent, end, 
and finally to the relation it bears to the whole. 
Those considerations which appear subordinate 
ought not to be omitted ; just as in our architect's 
plan, we catch a glimpse of the position and effect 



PREFACE. Xlll 

of ornamentation; that is to say, everything 
shonld be indicated with vigor and clearness. 
To fathom its depths wonld not only lead us to 
transcend onr limits, bnt compel ns to write as 
many special treatises as we have written chapters. 
Therefore it is necessary that we shonld con- 
dense the developments, and content ourselves 
with simply explaining what constitutes the 
spirit of education. 

It will be readily understood that this book is 
not only written for the instruction of those who 
have chosen, as a profession, the education of 
youth, but that it equally interests parents, who 
are bound by a sacred obligation to comprehend 
this duty, and to work dilligently to secure the 
enviable results. 

It is also fraught with usefulness to children 
and young people, in discovering to them the 
importance of an education, and disposing them 
to a docile conformity to those who are placed 
over them as teachers ; it is probable, even, that 
many whose education is incomplete, or has been 
misdirected, will be enabled by reading these 
pages to discover wherein they are wanting, and 



XIV PREFACE. 

strive to acquire as well as to repair, as far as 
possible, the faults of an early training. Bj this 
means they will also discover the true bases 
whereon to reconstruct their unhnished edifice, 
that the agitating passions of life have, perhaps, 
already overthrown. When the object of labor 
is to make ourselves better, it is never too late to 
begin. Education is the work of a lifetime. 

Occupied several years in literary and educa- 
tional pursuits, before assuming the pastoral 
charge either in France or Russia, we have had 
the privilege of seeing a very great number of 
children of different ages, of studying a great 
variety of character, and of making many practi- 
cal observations which will, perhaj)s, give some 
value to these reflections. 

Should this work contribute, in the smallest 
degree, to advance the true spirit of education, 
it will l)e a joy to have thus contributed to a 
cause which we have always loved, and which 
seems to us of the highest importance. In fact it 
is the fundamental work of society and religion. 
''I have alway thought," said Leibnitz, "that 
one could reform society by reforming the edu- 



PREFACE. XV 

cation of youth." This celebrated man also 
said : '' The right education of children is the 
structure on which human happiness is founded." 

In reading this book, the children and joung 
people, to whom we have already tried to do 
some good, will see under another form the 
thoughts we so loved to conununicate to them. 
Here they will find councils of a master to whom 
they gave all their confidence, and the remem- 
brance of a friend who will always be devoted 
to them. 

Above all, we would bring forward a fruitful 
thought which cannot be too much insisted upon, 
that in education the religious element should be 
the fundamental basis, the living principle, as it 
is the principal guarantee of success. 



CHAPTEK I. 

WHAT EDUCATION IS. 
I. 

However little the nature of man may be 
studied, it is easy to see that his soul, almost as 
much as his body, is subject like all other organ- 
ized beings to the laws of growth and develop- 
ment. This idea is admirably expressed in the 
following words of St. Gregory de Nysse : "As 
the body, little and weak at its birth, advances 
on towards perfection, so the soul, in following 
the progress of the servant which is united to it, 
seems to rise to perfection. It is in its organiza- 
tion a primitive power to elevate and develop. 
In its incipient state it is concealed in the soil, 
and to appearance produces little or no result. 
When the plant appears to the light, and exposes 
its germ to the rays of the sun, it soon opens 
like a flower, with the power of sensation. When 
it becomes large and more fully developed, you 
can see the power of reason forming itself like 



18 WHAT EDUCATION IS. 

fruit. It does not show its entire splendor sud- 
denly but comes nevertheless, to rapid perfec- 
tion, with the organization which serves it as an 
instrument," Such is the result derived from 
education in its ordinary acceptation : to take 
man in his early infancy, and awaken him to life; 
to exercise his faculties little by little, and lead 
him by degrees to the full development of all 
his powers, and all that elevates his being, and 
by thus forming his present life, prepare him for 
divine perfection in the life to come ! The sub- 
lime consummation indicated by St. Paul in these 
words : , " Whom we preach admonishing every 
man and teaching every man in all wisdom, that 
we may 2:)resent every man perfect in Christ 
Jesus." So the object of education is to develop 
all the precious germs that God has planted in 
each one of us. The word itself — the Latin 
etymology of '' educare," suggests to draw from, 
to extract — sufficiently indicates that great efforts 
are to be used to obtain from the mind, heart, 
and will of the child's being, that which is capa- 
ble of producing good. These faculties whose 
roots are buried in the soil, when conducted by a 



THE CHILD. 19 

well directed effort, may produce abundant fruits 
and graceful flowers upon its magnificent 
branches. When education is well understood 
and sincerely religious, it has three great effects, 
which should cause it to be appreciated above all 
things else. It elevates man, it forms the 
Christian and prepares him to become a saint. 
Is there anything in the world more desirable, or 
that is more worthy of our veneration ? 

An old adage says : " Who sees a child sees 
nothing." That is true only so far as relates to 
a child such as he is in coming into the world, 
shorn of all succor from education. Indeed how 
circumscribed is the little being ! it is a very 
little thing, this infirm creature, who more than 
all others stands in need of care and succor ! 

Man at his birth has much less power than any 
other being, and in this sense it is true to say : 
" Who sees a child sees nothing." But here let 
us weigh our words when we speak, for education 
comes to the rescue. She takes this child and 
says to herself : " There is a reasonable being, 
made in the image of God ; this child is possessed 
of intelligence, of a heart filled with noble and 



20 WHAT EDUCATION IS. 

high faculties, which exist in him, so to speak, 
only in a latent state. I am going to develop 
these concealed germs. I am about to cultivate 
this little being and to study his inclinations, his 
aptitude, his strength ; and I will direct him in 
conformity with that which appears to be his 
particular temperament, the different shades of 
his nature, and I will make of him a man. Who 
knows what this child will become ? Who knows 
but in him germs of the greatest genius and traits 
of the noblest character exist in embryo ? It may 
be a Fenelon, a Bossuet, a Turenne, or a Conde ! 
He may at least become a virtuous man and a 
useful member of society." 

In this sense it is not true to say : '' Who sees 
a child sees nothing." Rather one should say : 
" Who sees a child sees a man." He who sees a 
nation in its infancy and youth, sees all that 
nation's happy or unhappy future. Homer rep- 
resents Jupiter weighing the destinies of peoples 
in a balance. Education, more powerful than 
Jupiter, holds in her hand good and evil, and 
according as she carries one or the other in the 
balance, she determines the destinies of govern- 



DEVELOPMENT. 21 

ments. From this point of view, in what gran- 
deur does education appear ! In St. John Chry- 
sostom's sixtieth homily, on the eighteenth chap- 
ter of St. Matthew, the following extract may be 
found : '' Quid ma jus quam animis moderari, 
quam adolescentulorum iingere mores? Omni 
certe pictore, omni certe statuario, caeterisque 
hujusmodi omnibus excellentiorem hunc duco, qui 
juvenum animas fingere non ignoret," in which 
man to a degree is associated with the divine work. 
God has said : " Let us make man," and his 
creative hand has given to earth its masterjDiece 
and its King. Here it is still God who says : 
''Let us make man," but who works with modera- 
tion, by degrees, associating himself with men 
already formed, and through them fashioning, so 
to speak, the moral being of the child you are to 
educate. Yes, to "educate infancy" is an ex- 
pression as profound as it is noble and true. It 
shows perfectly that education consists in taking 
that mind, that heart, the entire child in the 
obscure and lowly state where God has given it 
birth and raising it to the height where all is truth 

beauty and virtue. 
3 



5SI55 WHAT EDUCATION IS. 

Education is then, above all, a work of devel- 
opment. Its aim is to cultivate the faculties, to 
develop noble and generous instincts, and to form 
amiable and virtuous habits. 

Hence it is easy to comprehend that education 
does not consist in crowding the mind of a child 
as soon as possible with a multitude of facts, 
more or less well arranged, but in applying oneself, 
by well chosen and useful exercises, to put the 
mind of the child in a condition to compre- 
hend, to judge, to reason. It labors to dispose 
the heart to love the good and the beautiful, and 
strives to form the will to the practice of virtue. 
In a word it proposes to form all his being, in 
developing therein the power to think, to love, 
to act, that he may attain to that degree of 
knowledge and goodness which God has des- 
tined him to reach. And what is that degree ? 
Perfection ! That is to say, education is the 
work of an entire life-time, and one might call 
man a being who at his point of departure is 
nothing, but whose limit is infinite. 
II. 

After the first education of childhood, youth 
should receive assistance which demands more 



EDUCATION CONTINUOUS. 23 

and more a serious and sustaining co-operation on 
its part. This secondary education becomes more 
fruitful in proportion to the degree the scholar 
is taught to aid himself, and thus favors the reg- 
ular and progressive expansion of the special 
gifts with which nature has endowed him. 

Early education has but little positive effect, 
except in placing him in a condition to study 
successfully. Secondary education calls more than 
ever for cooperation of self effort, a concurrence 
that from day to day becomes more important, 
according as his strength grows and his experi- 
ence is extended. Finally the scholar leaves his 
masters, and enters into the world. To the eyes 
of superficial men his education appears com- 
plete, while in fact, he has then only changed the 
means. Under this new form he still continues 
to learn, until in the third period he acquires a 
peculiar dignity and usefulness. Scholastic edu- 
cation is succeeded by spontaneous education 
imperceptibly seconded, more or less, by former 
instruction, which lends to him its capital of 
efficiency. With this the solitary student occu- 
pies himself during the remainder of his life. 



24 WHAT EDUCATION IS. 

This unrestricted activity which up to this time 
received assistance from masters is henceforth to 
rely upon itself, and will recognize better, and 
invoke oftener, the guide which is about to 
direct him, namely, Reflection. 

Yes, during the succeeding years of his life, 
reflection will be man's most powerful means of 
education. The multitude of various ideas with 
which he has stored his mind, facts and dates, 
the accumulation of his memory, will be of little 
service to him. If they are not made food for 
reflection, or if he does not seek to acquire from 
them wherewith to acquit his experience in life^ 
to form for himself a philosophy of the heart, 
his education is not accomplished, nor is the man 
formed within him. 

It is in the school of reflection that men, things, 
passions, times, occupations and experiences of 
all kinds will give man that instruction he 
little anticipates, — an education a little slow, per- 
haps, but profoundly useful. 

I do not fear to say that in this new and con- 
tinued school, his mind, heart, character, in fact, 
his entire moral being, will achieve an individual 
and decided stamp. 



ITS END PERFECTION. 26- 

Above all it is bj experience man is formed. 
^^ He that has not been proved, what does he 
know ? " say the scriptures. Through experi- 
ence the weak fortify themselves, — or at least, 
learn, like the reed, to nourish themselves in the 
torrent by which they are tossed. The strong 
become heroic, as the oak by the storm it resists 
becomes more firmly rooted. 

It is thus that innocence without losing its 
integrity becomes true virtue ; that is to say, 
becomes strong, courageous, resisting gloriously 
and with perseverance. In this manner the char- 
acters of great men are in part of their own crea- 
tion. It is to reflection aided by courage and 
constant efforts, that they owe the complete 
development of their being, because " The life of 
man is, in reality, but one great persistent edu- 
cation, of which perfection is the end and aim " 
( De Gerando.) 

As we occupy ourselves here with the educa- 
tion of childhood and youth, in a special man- 
ner our attention first of all will be called upon 
to consider the following points. We will en- 
deavor to make ourselves familiar with the 



26 WHAT EDUCATION IS. 

nature of a child, the resources and obstacles 
which are found within him ; then, what should 
be the education given to his intellect, as also his 
heart, his will, and even his manners. We will 
consider likewise his character, upon which edu- 
cation should exert a great influence. Finally, 
we will consider the young man as he advances 
in life with the succors that Providence throws 
around liim to work out each day his moral per- 
fection and thus to merit his recompense. 



CHAPTEK II. 

WHAT INFAN^CY IS. 
I. 

What more beautiful spectacle than that of a 
mother beside the cradle of her infant child ! It 
is divine providence, under the most touching 
form, and in its most graceful expression, watch- 
ing over a helpless being, called to become at a 
later period the perfection of God's creature, a 
man. Let childhood rejoice in its helplessness 
and weakness since thej obtain for it the happi- 
ness of passing its earliest years under a protec- 
tion so tender and so perfect ! 

Let us hasten to study somewhat in detail, 
what this little child is, who reposes in his cradle, 
or ventures his first uncertain steps under the 
eyes of his mother. This child is a man, with all 
his future yet concealed in these early years. 
He is the hope of his family, and who can say 
that he is not destined to exercise a very useful 
influence upon society ? 



28 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

And see how lovely a creature, and how worthy 
he is of care, affection and devotion ! Already 
his little members are beginning to develop 
themselves until in later childhood nothing is 
more charming and inspires more hope than his 
unaffected candor. Let ns penetrate this grace- 
ful envelope, let us go to the heart of this flower 
so full of freshness and innocence ; there we shall 
find a soul which is gradually awakening to life. 

See how anxious this little one is to learn ; listen 
to his thousand little questions revealing every 
moment a mind that calls for the truth. How 
shall we describe his pure heart which still pos- 
sesses the rich grace of baptism with which it is 
adorned ? Ineif able treasure, precious source of 
a thousand excellent qualities ! 

His will is still so pliable, he is easily turned 
to the right direction, a simple word is sufiicient to 
conduct him on to good and pious acts. Oh ! 
how delightful to see, and how sweet to cultivate 
such a heart 1 We feel that here is an earnest of 
Heaven, and that, in his innocent eyes we dis- 
cover the look of an angel. 

But he is growing ; he will soon become a 



NATURE DEVELOPING. 29 

young man. Now hie intellectnal and moral 
nature develops daily more and more. Yeiled 
by that joyous and langhing face, there are noble 
thoughts and generous sentiments. Inadvert- 
antly, perhaps, you relate some affecting story, 
mark what absorbed attention ! He is immova- 
ble. He would have listened for entire hours. 
Again, a poor person comes, asking charity. 
"With supplicating voice she describes her wretch- 
edness. At once the child is touched and eagerly 
calls for alms for the poor one. Obtaining them 
he places them in her trembling hands, and 
returns, with beaming face. The joy this good 
action gives him lights up his features witli the 
sweet radiance of goodness. 

How sad he is when his mother tells him that 
she suffers ! How his tears mingle with hers 
when she weeps ! 

The joy of his brothers and sisters are his own 
joys : their sports are his sports. He loves, he is 
beloved, and his presence only is sufficient to give 
pleasure. Fenelon loved children. At the age 
of sixty-four, one Autumn in his palace at Cam- 
bria, he took charge of the education of the 



30 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

young sons of tlie Duke de Chaiilnes ; and he 
never spoke of them but with tenderness. 

" Do not forget," he wi'ote to their father, 
*' that you have promised me your dear young 
sons for the beautiful season of Autumn. I shall 
be charmed with them." At another time, " I 
beg you to send me your dear children, who are 
also mine ; I shall be delighted, and will instruct 
them myself. Leave them with me. It will 
not only give me great pleasure, but I will try 
and make myself useful to them." 

In writing to their mother, he says : "As for 
your little trooj) of children, they do not in the 
least inconvenience me ; they make me happy, 
and I love them tenderly. In fine, I am rejoiced 
to have them here." 

What an agreeable sight it is to see children 
enter into all their legitimate recreations with 
the natural zest and joy of their age ! What a 
noble, an exalted spectacle, to see these same 
children at study, already exercising their youth- 
ful intellects in a labor, which, however arduous 
it may be, will reward them with the richest re- 
sults ! But above all how touching a sight is a 



THE HOPE OF THE WORLD. 31 

child at prayer ! Represent to your mind Jesus 
at the tender age of twelve years, conducted to 
the temple by his pious parents. Can you not 
see Him in the faces of these young children, the 
day of their first communion, or even when they 
have accomplished any solemn act of religion ? 

Why is childhood the period of so much love- 
liness? Why are our devotion, our cares, and 
our tenderest affections so irresistibly attracted 
toward them? It is hope^ yes, the hope of 
heaven, whose palms and whose crowns they will 
win. They are the hope of this world, of the 
family, of the country. In the faces of children 
every indication may be discerned of the excel- 
lent disposition they possess and which only 
awaits cultivation. There may be seen through 
their transparent and pure glances the most 
promising germs, the noblest faculties, as one 
sees through the limpid waters precious objects 
which a prodigal hand has dropped there. 
The culture of the divine gifts, through the dif- 
ferent branches of education, will constitute the 
subject upon which we proceed to dwell at 
length. We shall see better then, how these 



32 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

concealed resources render childhood the most 
fruitful age, provided a religions iniinence is 
comprehended in this education, which may in- 
spire his affections, direct his efforts, correct his 
fanlts, anticipate his deviations, and develop in 
him every germ of beauty and goodness. 

He who placed a just value upon all things, 

how tenderly He loved and honored childhood ! 

What philosopher ever said, before Jesus Christ : 

^' Let the little ones come unto me, for of such 

is the Kingdom of Heaven ? " At the moment 

when tlie Saviour of the world pronounced these 

words did not the fathers and mothers by whom 

He was surrounded, fall at his feet to adore 

Him? 

II. 

At the same time let us not deceive ourselves. 
Infancy is like a cultivated field, in which, 
side by side with the most beautiful and precious 
flowers poisonous and perfidious seeds have been 
sown. These bad seeds grow with the good, and 
they are called tares. These must be eradicated 
with care lest they hinder the growth of the 
salutary plants. 



FAULTS INTERSPERSED. 33 

There is, perhaps, ah-eadj much to reform in 
the child who now appears all gentleness and 
beauty. And should not great care be used, this 
young heart so desirous of enjoyment, will 
hasten to cast itself into pleasures which will 
soon tarnish its innocence. His will may even 
now possess a certain love of independence, 
and a resolute firmness amounting to obstinacy. 
Irritability, impatience, petulance, combined with 
an ardent disposition, may often carry him be- 
yond the limits of a commendable prudence. 
There is, then, from the earliest years, much to 
correct; but this must by no means dishearten 
^or intimidate us. 

The happiest and most richly endowed natures 
are not necessarily those who are exempt from 
faults. Who does not know through what un- 
ceasing combats the greatest saints have passed ? 
In fact it is very difficult to act efficiently upon 
a nature too calm or too impassible, which is 
often like stagnant water, whose depths may, one 
day, cast up dirt and filth. Is it not much more 
desirable to encounter active, even passionate 
characters ? 



34 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

In the last instance, there is one effectual re- 
sort, which consists in stimulating them to energy 
in the pursuit of knowledge. Above all, in educa- 
tion the passions may be compared to vicious 
horses, which may at any time launch us into an 
abyss, but, being skillfully managed, as readily 
conduct us to the grandest achievements. We 
are often too easily alarmed by the faults of chil- 
dren, and do not consider their age or their con- 
stitution, or the various circumstances which 
surround them, all of which time will modify. 
Fenelon says of a child, difficult to control : "His 
faults arise from his temperament and age, and 
there is every reason to believe that a good edu- 
cation and riper reason will change them into- 
true talent. Like new wine, it mellows by age 
its fresh tartness and converts it into strength. 
If you have a very positive nature to contend 
with, you have only to soften it. Age, w^hick 
fortifies by reason, by example, by authority, will 
temper the impetuosity of youth, which must be 
treated with sweetness and patience, but with 
firmness." 

Childhood is a period of life, in which all 



SELF-ESTEEM. 



35 



moral influences may be perfected in harmony 
witli tlie constant development of the body. 
How necessary it is, then, to encourage a child 
by giving expression to the sentiments yon feel 
in his presence! 

What joy one feels in spite of the thought- 
lessness and precipitancy of young natures to 
see them struggle and finally triumph, although, 
perchance, confused with much that is objection- 
able, still stamped with undoubted energy and 
love of goodness ! 

It matters little if a child is overtaken with a 
sally of passion, when he returns with so much 
regret, and so sincere a desire to give no more 
pain to the one he has wounded. Less gracious 
is sunshine after a storm, than the return of this 
child, and the tears of his repentance. 

m. 

One important thing to remark is the nature 
and instinctive tendency that children have to 
self-esteem, the greatest source of all evil. 

"Consider," said Fenelon, "how, at this age, 
children seek those who flatter them, and avoid 



36 WHAT mFA^CY IS. 

those who restrain them ; how well they know 
how to cry and when to be silent, in order to 
obtain their desires ; see to what a degree artifice 
or jealousy has already taken possession of 
them." Often we langh at their little caprices, 
and find in them something winning. This is 
wrong. Children will become accustomed to 
hear all their acts approved, and to have exclu- 
sive attention paid to all their wants, until finally 
they come to regard themselves as the only ob- 
ject of consideration. They are hapj^y and con- 
tented while you lavish caresses and flattery 
upon them, but when required to perform some 
duty all is changed. They become sullen, rude 
and stubborn. 

The child who finds himself centered in the 
affection of all those by whom he is surrounded 
necessarily becomes egotistical. He is not affec- 
tionate or grateful to his parents, nor thoughtful 
in regard to others. Age and merit receive no 
recognition from him. His babble forces to 
silence all in his circle, be they never so respect- 
able. You must be amused with all his sayings, 
and delighted with all his doings. Alas! that 



HAUGHTINESS. 37 

too much consideration should vitiate this flower 
of simplicity, this gentle respectfulness, this 
absence of all pretension, which render child- 
hood so happy and so lovely. 

We sometimes laughingly rally the mother 
upon her child's conduct, and suggest the 
thought of his being too much petted. The 
mother only smiles, feeling, perhaps, compli- 
mented rather than otherwise ; and notwithstand- 
ing the misfortune of having a spoiled child, still 
remains blind to the fact. 

How often have children who have given evi- 
dence of the greatest promise, yet through the 
weakness of parents become the prey of every 
evil ! Seneca says : " What may not the child be- 
come, whose anxious mother gratifies his every 
desire, wipes away his every tear, and on all occa- 
sions excuses him before his masters ? " 

It is sad to see pride so misplaced at any age, 
encroaching upon the character of a child, ren- 
dering it haughty and arrogant, unamiable, in- 
trusive and full of vain ostentation ! Fenelon 
gives the following description of a child spoiled 
by pride : 

" His mother had nourished in him a haughti- 



38 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

ness and pride which obscured all his most amia- 
ble characteristics. His nature was good and 
sincere, but not very affectionate. He thought 
little of what might give pleasure to others. 
Nothing seemed impossible, when seeking his 
own gratification, and the least obstacle irritated 
his ardent nature. He had been flattered by his 
mother from his cradle, and was a striking exam- 
ple of the misfortune of many of those who are 
born in elevated stations. The rigors of fortune 
which he began to feel in his early youth have 
failed to moderate his arrogance and impetuosity. 
His pride, like the pliant palm, yields but to 
present pressure, however great may be the effort 
made to control it." 

Nothing is more insupportable than to hear a 
child say to his 23arents or teacher : "I will have 
this ! I will not do that ! That tires me." It is 
always "I." Self-esteem exacts that everything 
should pay tribute to himself, alone, and he 
wishes to live but for the gratification of his 
whims, disregarding alike both obedience and 
order. 

This arrogant " I " is also singularly strength- 



A LITTLE PEODIGY. 39 

ened in another way ; that is by the elaborate 
and expensive manner in which chikh'en are 
dressed. They are made, permit me to use the 
expression, like little dolls, never appearing ex- 
cept in the latest styles, and with a bearing like 
the ladies whom they represent. All is so gen- 
teel, so nicely adjusted ! their bewitching cnrls 
are so graceful. These poor children consider 
themselves possessed of something extraordinary, 
greatly overrating these frivolous advantages. 
Love of admiration is their only desire. Add to 
their affected pose the most conceited language, 
and the picture is perfect. 

Can you not see how this poor mother has 
spoiled her child ? how she makes of him an idol 
which she constantly caresses and flatters, and 
how by this weakness she may cause the unhap- 
piness of a child,whom she would willingly shield 
with the forfeit of her life ? 

Again, a great number of children are spoiled 
by giving undue importance to their first success. 
Should a child possess a good memory, he is made 
to learn a multitude of things ; fables, poetry, 
history, proper names, and dates. Then, this 



40 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

little prodigy, five or six years old, is led into 
a reunion or soiree, every look is fixed 
upon him, and, if he possesses naturally a gentle 
bearing, all fall into raptures over his admirable 
conduct, and his astonishing memory. His very 
words are commented upon as signs of genius, 
his impertinences even sparkle with wit, and will 
be called ingenious tricks. Is it possible to 
appreciate the gigantic and deep rooted pride in 
these young hearts, — a pride that dazzles and at 
the same time sterilizes ! In fact, what is the 
ordinary result ? These children who have been 
always flattered, caressed, and overwhelmed with 
praise, lose their good sense, and never acquire a 
love for industry. 

"The result," says Fenelon, "is that those so 
celebrated at the age of five years fall into ob- 
scurity and when arrived at antiquity are de- 
spised." 

The time comes when we have a right to ex- 
pect from a child something more than the mem- 
ory of a parrot and genteel manners. Their little 
ways that give so much pleasure now disappear 
with advancing youth, and as nothing besides 



PERFECT CHILDREN. 41 

this exterior covering and this ephemeral flower 
has been cultivated, so nothing remains to him in 
a short time but intolerable pedantry. 

In speaking of the faults of children, we do not 
wish to manifest a desire to come in contact only 
with perfect children, for none such exist and if 
they did, it would not be upon .them that educa- 
tion would exert its most powerful influence. We 
believe that children possessing what may be 
called a premature perfection enjoy a gift more 
dangerous than useful. Many natures are thus 
happily constituted, and there are children who 
are indeed quiet, industrious, docile and altogether 
well disposed. By some admirably concurrent cir- 
cumstances, their conduct is so harmonious that 
reproach is uncalled for. 

They are never subjects of censure in the fam- 
ily circle, for there they are sweet-tempered, re- 
spectful, neat in their person, and complaisant. 
With their masters they appear attentive, and dili- 
gently apply themselves to study. Habituated to 
have given to them every week advantageous 
notes, accompanied by merited praise, they estab- 
lish themselves in a state of contentment that 



42 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

leads them secretly to despise others, and almost 
makes them think that tliey possess an excep- 
tional natnre. They are treated as prodigies of 
intelligence, and in their presence are even pro- 
posed as models to others, which never fails to puff 
them np with pride. It is a fortmiate event when 
some trifling misdemeanor subjects them to a 
just reproach or serious reprimand. Happy 
fault ! It will prove to them what the scalpel in 
the hands of a skilled surgeon effects in a malig- 
nant tumor, which sooner or later in its conse- 
quences would have perhaps proved fatal. With- 
out doubt kindness must be made use of, but do 
not fear to t^me these little Catos by a firmness 
which without humiliating them too much or caus- 
ing them too much suffering, will show them that 
they have an immense amount yet to acquire, and 
that, after all, they will be insupportable if they 
do not add to their budding merits, and to their 
happy dispositions, the sweetest of all flowers, 
humble modesty. 

From all that we have just said about a child, 
we must infer that he becomes the source of the 
most exalted hopes, when he receives a proper 



mHEKITED PROPENSITIES. 43 

education. Through love and good will his nature 
can be greatly enriched and brought into an active 
state, which will produce that which is beautiful, 
amiable and good. 

Whatever unfortunate germs a child may have 
received at his birth as a sad inheritance, one 
should let nothing cause one to despair. Let 
us be captivated no longer by the beautiful flow- 
ers that spring spontaneous from the bosom of 
the earth, nor be discouraged at the injurious 
plants, which grow there in spite of us. Let us 
remember only that we are educating a child 
whose future is in our hands. 

It is deplorable to hear one say: "My son is born 
with such propensities, that there is nothing that 
can be done; that is a family trait, the inheritance 
of his birth, and he will never change." 

A profound error, and a sad presage for his 
future ! There is no soil so bad that an intelli- 
gent and firm culture will not ameliorate it. 

Others say : "I do not fear their little faults; 
they are not serious, for the heart is excellent; as 
years increase all that will disappear." Be care- 
ful, rather, that age does not increase the growth. 



44 WHAT INFANCY IS. 

of tares, over that of the good grain, and that 
the latter be not sadly smothered. Water that 
insinuates itself drop by drop into a ship, finally 
will submerge it, and the worm which invariably 
gnaws the root of a plant, will soon canse it to 
wither by sapping the sonrce of its life. 

All bears its importance in education, and who- 
ever is charged with the education of a child, 
should feel himself invested with a sublime mis- 
sion, and ought to be inspired with both respect 
and fear. 

Monseigneur, the Bishop of Orleans, at the time 
he was superior of the little seminary at Paris, 
could never divest himself of the most profound 
impressions, whenever a new scholar was brought 
before him : "I always experience an indefinable 
emotion," he writes, "at the sight of this young 
creature, who, seeing himself separated from his 
family, anxiously turns his eyes, often bathed in 
tears, towards me, striving to divine from my 
looks and my words whether happiness or unhap- 
piness was to be the result to him in this new 
situation." 



A NOBLE CALLING. 45 

In fact, the instruction of a child involves the 
most grave and important responsibilities ! 

To give to his delicate body necessary care his 
health and increasing growth demand, to cultivate 
his mind, to promote in his heart every pure and 
noble tendency, to pour into it love for man and 
for religion; cultivate in him distinguished 
manners free from affectation ; inspire him with 
politeness and grace, untinged with offensive 
pretention : finally, prepare him, through a 
complete and skilfully directed education, to en- 
ter upon the career that he is about to assume in 
society, and to which God has called him. 

What a function ! Who is there with knowl- 
edge enough to comprehend and accomplish 
worthily this dignity ? Will it be the man led 
by interest, and who sees in education only a use- 
ful and lucrative employment for himself ? Or 
should it not rather be a truly Christian man who 
will bring to this noble task, with the talents it 
demands,that devotion, abnegation and love which 
only can assure success ? 



CHAPTEK III. 



EARLY YEAKS. 



The education of a child dates from his birth. 
The impressions which he receives while yet in 
the mother's arms and nourished from her 
breast, the first words that he hears, the first 
objects upon which his eyes rest, finally every- 
thing connected with his earliest awakening to 
life, undoubtedly may and do have, a great and 
decided influence over his future existence. A 
mother should, therefore, consider it a sacred 
duty and obligation to bestow upon her young 
child the most devoted and tender care. 

In the meantime, let us consider the ordinary 
care that a child receives in his infancy. Fene- 
lon says that ''they are abandoned to the care of 
indiscreet and vicious women, notwithstanding it 
is the age in which the most profound impres- 



A mother's duty. 47 

sions are made, and consequently they produce 
the greatest influence upon the future of a 
child." 

Here, in passing, will you permit me to say 
that mothers who enjoy a certain rank in the 
world evade too easily a duty which should be so 
sweet : that of nursing their own children and 
taking upon themselves the care of their early 
infancy. Can you believe that God, without 
reason, opened this source of life in the breast 
of woman ? And that while nourishing her chil- 
di-en from her own substance,she creates a new tie 
between herself and child, and thus communi- 
cates to him the germs of goodness contained in 
her own maternal heart ? 

How can a mother, without good reason, con- 
sent to deprive herself of this precious slavery, if 
you please, to which she is necessarily condemned 
by nature in order to bring up her child ? How can 
she permit a stranger to see the first smile of her 
son, to be the subject of his earliest caresses, to 
be the first upon whom the rays of his intelli- 
gence beam, to watch the early expansion of his 
heart with all his little words spoken to her — all 



48 EARLY YEAKS. 

this wealth, so sweet to the soul of a mother, and 
whose loss knows no compensation ? And then 
what dangers you expose yourself to, should 
necessity compel you to such a course ! 

It is a well-known fact that many children 
have imbibed upon the knees of their nurse, or 
at the breasts of their foster-mother, the germs 
of precocious vice, which have developed them- 
selves at a later period of life. . That which 
should determine a mother to take charge of the 
earlier years of her child is the knowledge that 
in its feeble little body is contained an immortal 
soul, resplendent with grace and beauty ; since 
it has been regenerated in the waters of baptism: 
a soul that God regards w^ith love, and that the 
angels salute as a sister. This being a fact, let 
us go and seek this soul, so to speak, contained in 
in every member, scattered through every organ, 
and where impressions alone discover its presence. 
It is necessary to care for all these delicate mem- 
bers, to w^atch over them and to respect them, as 
so many vases where this divine spark of life lies 
slumbering. But who will have the care, the 
tenderness, the love of a mother, who will not 



THE CHOICE OF SERVANTS. 49 

tonch, even, but witli respect and religious awe, 
this form of bodj, thrown with gauze-like text- 
ure around the soul of a child ? 

When for serious reasons it becomes necessary 
to confide a young child to the care of a stranger, 
prudence and extreme caution should preside 
over the choice that is made. 

Plutarch said, in his Treatise on Education : — 
"It is necessary to employ the most assiduous 
care in the choice of the person charged with the 
first instruction of children. If it is necessary to 
fashion the l)odies of children at their birth that 
they may not contract any natural defect, so one 
cannot form their characters and manners too 
soon." This same motive in a higher degree 
should guide our choice in selecting young ser- 
vants to constantly attend them. Demoralized 
servants soon communicate to children their 
vices of language and manners. 

The first dawn of mind and intelligence takes 
place in some children much sooner than one 
thinks. What happiness for a mother to know 
that at this moment her child receives only pure 
and holy ideas, and to be sure that religion and 



50 EARLY YEARS. 

tenderness have produced the first impression 
upon the being that she loves so ranch ! 

At first the cares of the body exact the most 
serious attention. But this physical care should 
be neither too effeminate nor too severe. Many 
children of a delicate complexion are exposed to 
be^ spoiled by an excess of care. So much afraid 
are they to fatigue or cross the little sick one ! 

" But," says a good mother often : "I have 
seen that child so feeble ! it nearly died several 
times ; it is almost a miracle that I was able to 
save it." And so she decides reluctantly to di- 
minish her exaggerated precautions and solici- 
tudes. 

In this case of inevitable difficulty, it is only 
necessary to try for the sake of the child to en- 
deavor not to go too far in encouraging this ex- 
cessive delicacy, which will be all its life a source 
of suffering and restraints. 
II. 

The great principle in the education of the 
physique is that the entire care for the body 
should be given to it as the habitation of the 
soul, into whose service it has entered, and which 



A SOUND MIND IN A SOUND BODY. 51 

will govern it. It is only an instrnment, and 
every care should tend to give it flexibility and 
docility, wliicli serves to render an instrument 
precious. 

The first object to be considered is the forma- 
tion of the soul ; and while it is obliged to live 
in this prison-house, to act in such a manner 
as will keep this house hereafter free from 
injury, according to the maxim of the Latin 
poet Juvenal, "Mens sana in corpore sano." 

The body then is to be cared for less for itself 
than for the soul that inhabits it. 

It is an instrument ; let us think of the laborer 
who is to make use of it. It is a servant ; let us 
think of the master who is to control it. Final- 
ly, it is a temple. Let us think of God, 
who resides there. According to the admirable 
words of St. Bernard : " The soul is a temple 
consecrated to God, and the heart is his favored 
altar." 

By acting in this manner, all that we do for 
the soul will be equally profitable to the body. 
While striving for holiness, we find health ; in 
the desire for virtue we gain strength ; and the 



52 EARLY YEARS. 

soul one day will be grateful for tlie privations 
that the body has endured for it, and will retui'n 
a hundred fold for what it has received. 

We take pleasure here in quoting the ideas of 
a man who well understood the true spirit of 
education : " Should you desire to prej^are a 
happy future for your child, care for his body as 
if he were the son of a peasant, and for his soul 
as if he were the son of a King. Give him the 
body of a rustic, and the soul of a lord ; that he, 
having only the desire and necessities of the 
former, may possess the generosity and grandeur 
of soul belonging to the latter. Always care- 
fully distinguish between what St. Paul calls the 
worldly man and the heavenly man." 

It is certain, that without a strong constitu- 
tion, the most intellectual man may be reduced 
to the greatest incompetency. This is a fact not 
to be lost sight of. 

One of the notable essentials to health, of which 
we think too little, is pure air; "Aer pabulum 
vitae ; " air is the aliment of life. 

A man of observation once wrote : " Bad air 



THE TRAESTING OF PEIXCES. 53 

makes one unquiet, morose, discontented, and in- 
spires a taste for vice." 

As regards suitable food, many parents are 
greatly in error, and by excess of care and deli- 
cacy injure their children. 

The following is the way in which Louis XIY 
and Fenelon treated the Duke de Bourgoyne and 
his brothers : 

" They live in a very common way, eating as 
much as they wish at every meal, but are never 
given anything but the healthiest food. In the 
morning they eat only dry bread, and drink a 
large glass of water with some wine, or j^ure 
water, whichever they choose. At dinner and at 
supper they eat as much as they wish of every- 
thing that is placed before them. Attention 
is paid only to have them eat a good deal of 
bread and very little crude fruit. Three days in 
a week stews are served, and at dinner only. At 
their lunch they eat no more than in the morn- 
ing, only a piece of dry bread, or at most some 
biscuit, and drink a glass of water. They drink 
wine and water at dinner and supper if they 
wish, (for some times they do not care to do 



54: EARLY YEAKS. 

SO.) They always drink Burgundy wine, and 
only two cups of it. They do not drink other 
liqnurs, or refreshing drinks of any kind what- 
ever, but pure water unmixed with any foreign 
liquids, unless, on a rare occasion, at some party 
of pleasure." 

These details are full of interest, inasmuch as 
they show us with what simplicity young princes 
were brought w]^ in those days. It may also be 
possible that these examples will teach a lesson 
to many parents who hold certain superior posi- 
tions in life, and consequently believe that their 
children should receive more refined attention. 

I think that all boarding-schools should be 
conducted on this well-known and well-founded 
principle — that pupils must be furnished with 
food at once healthy and abundant. 

The royal children of France, educated by 
Fenelon, found health, strength and happiness in 
the practice of these frugal and simple rules. 
"The bodily exercise they were obliged to take," 
he says, " was such that no workman of Paris 
would have been willing to risk the like system 
for his child ; and it must be confessed that un- 



ROBUST AND VIGOROUS. 55 

less lie could be certain of his child's strength 
being equal to theirs, it would be unsafe to take 
the chance." 

The fastidiousness of many mothers, often 
very much retard the physical development of 
children. Fear of the slightest inconvenience, 
causes them to retrench indispensable exercise ;. 
such as g}Tnnastic6, long walks, riding on horse- 
back, swimming, etc.; means, which, wisely em- 
ployed, may have upon the health and strength 
of children the greatest influence. 

If you wish your child to be strong and vigor- 
ous, we will say to you with Montaigne, " Inure 
him to heat and cold, to wind and sun, that he 
may learn to despise them ; remove from him 
the usual comforts, common to rising, retiring, 
dressing, eating, and drinking ; accustom him to 
all changes, that he may be not a handsome fop, 
but a robust and vigorous boy." 

m. 

The early intellectual education of a child 
should not be neglected ; at the same time all 
forcing of the intellect is to be avoided. Fruits 



56 EARLY YEAES. 

too earlj ri23ened are wanting in flavor. We 
are accnstomed to speak and act towards them as 
though they had no idea of God or their duties, 
and were not capable of judging either of truth 
or goodness ; while the fact remains that as soon 
as a ray of light penetrates the soul, these ideas, 
presented to the child by an intelligent and vir- 
tuous mother, find readv access to the under- 
standing. But they should be given in an easy 
and comprehensive manner. 

Fenelon says that " none but the most exquisite 
things are to be thrown into such a small and 
precious reservoir." Little and good, is justly 
said, but we will say very little, and very good. 
Let them be taught the most simple, and ordin- 
ary things,be of service to them at a later jDcriod. 
Above all, teach them to speak j^lainly, and do 
not tolerate certain little defects of language that 
we often do great wrong to admire. 

We have to remember that not every caj^rice 
of a child must be gratified, and that in fearing 
to oppose them, we only multiply their desires. 
Children upon this point are marvelously saga- 
cious. They readily divine what they are to ex- 



EELIGIOUS SENTIMEXT. 57 

pect from those by whom they are siiiToiinded. 
They distinguish not only different characters, 
bnt the different shades of character, however 
slight each one may seem. More yet, they know 
singularly well the power of their caresses, as 
also of their tears, their cries and feigned 
illness. "We should instruct them from the earli- 
est moment that nothing will ever be obtained 
by such means, and we should remain immovable 
in our decision. 

The moral and religious sentiments cannot be 
awakened too soon in a child's heart. "We should 
remind them in a grave and serious manner : 
" This is wi'ong," or " God forbids that." These 
simple words are usually sufficient to keep them 
in the path of duty. Often, also, may be said to 
him, "God sees you," "He hears you," "He 
knows even your thoughts." In this manner the 
child will have a monitor during his life, until 
the thought of God will become habitual. It 
will be a great stimulant to good action and a 
]30werful restraint against evil. We gladly quote 
here a passage in which Monsieur Lamartine re- 



58 EARLY YEARS. 

calls the tender care his mother employed in his 
religions education. 

" Her piety," said he, '' was the part of lierseK 
that she most ardently desired to communicate 
to us. To make us creatures of God in spirit 
and in truth, was her highest maternal wish. In 
this she succeeded without system, without effort, 
and with that marvellous natural facility that no 
artificial means could equal. The piety which 
flowed from every inspiration, from every act, 
and from every gesture enveloped us, so to s]3eak, 
in an atmosj)here of heaven here below. We 
believed that God followed her ^nd that we 
should hear him and see him, as she seemed her- 
self, to hear, see, and conversed with him every 
hour of the day. God seemed to be one of us. 
He was born in us with our earliest and most 
indefinable impressions. We do not remember, 
not to have known him. Xever a day passed in 
which we did not speak of him. We always 
send Him as the third person, when in the soci- 
ety of our mother. 
His name was on our lips as we drank the milk 



59 

from our mother's breast, and while yet lisping 
we learned to speak his name. 

"According as we advanced in years, acts 
which rendered Him present and ever sensible to 
the soul, were performed twenty times a day, 
under our eyes. In the morning as in the even- 
ing, before and after meals, we were obliged to 
recite short prayers. The knees of my mother 
were for a long time our familiar altar. Her 
shining face at those moments was veiled with a 
respectful and somewhat solemn recollection, 
which impressed upon our minds the gravity of 
the act with which she wished to inspire us. When 
she prayed for and with us, her beautiful face 
became still more sweet and tender. We felt 
inundated with her strength and joy. 

"All our lessons in piety were limited entirely 
by her religious manner towards us and with us. 
The perpetual effusion of love, adoration, grati- 
tude, recollection and prayer which escaped from 
her soul, were her natural and only sermons. Pray- 
er,l}a'ic,soaring,sacred prayer, was associated with 
every act of the day. These constant and aj)- 
propriate prayers were to her a rapturous pleasure 



60 EARLY YEARS. 

and not a tiresome obligation. In the hands of 
such a woman onr life was a j)erpetual sursum 
corda. Her mind rose as natnrally to the 
thoughts of God as a j^lant that seeks the air and 
light, for our mother was entirely different from 
ordinary women. 

" She never wearied ns with long devotion, or 
tore ns from onr plays, or awoke ns from onr 
sleep to pray to God, notwithstanding the 
repugnance we might feel or the tears we might 
shed. She made a feast for our souls by these short 
invocations to which she smilingly invited us. 

" She did not mingle our prayers with any sad 
or mournful subject that could excite our tears, 
but with all the little happy events of the day. 
For example, in the morning when we lay awake 
on our little beds and the sun was casting its 
bright rays into our windows, when the birds 
were singing on the bushes or in their cage, when 
the steps of the servants resounded through the 
house, and we were waiting with impatience my 
mother's coming before we arose, until finally 
the sound of steps on the stairs greeted our ears, 
and she entered our chamber with a face always 



61 

beaming with goodness, tenderness and sweet 
joy, she hastened to kiss ns while yet in bed; 
she assisted us to dress; she listened to all onr 
little prattle, with which children are so full 
after a sonnd and refreshing night's rest,in ore like 
a nest full of chattering swallows on the roof of 
the honse when the mother approaches ; then 
she wonld say to ns : 

" To whom do we owe this happiness we are 
all enjo}dng together ? It is to God. Without 
Him this beantifn] snn conld not shine, these 
trees wonld have lost their verdure; these gay 
birds would be found dead with cold and hunger 
on the bare ground; and you, my poor chil- 
dren, would have neither bed, house, garden, or 
mother, to shelter and nourish you, and bring to 
you the joys of each season. It is right for us 
to thank Him for all he has given us this day, 
and let us beg of Him to give us many such." 

Then placing herself upon her knees at the 
side of our bed, she would join our little hands 
in her own, and in a slow and subdued voice she 
would say our morning prayers, while we re- 



^62 EARLY YEARS. 

peated the words and imitated her tone of 
voice." 

With what unabated interest we read the de- 
tails of a christian education ! How sweet the 
memory of these impressions left on the soul of 
the child during its entire life, as well as the 
tender remembrance that he was the object of 
such care ! 

"My personal remembrance," says Pere La- 
cordaire, in his memoirs, ''commenced to unfold 
at about the age of seven years. Two acts at 
this epoc are engraved upon my memory. My 
mother placed me in a little school to commence 
my study of the classics. Then she brought me 
to the Priest of her parish, that I might make 
my first confession. I j^assed through the 
church into a large and beautiful sacristy, where 
I found sitting alone a benevolent looking old 
man. It was the first time I ever approached a 
Priest, having never seen one Init amidst the 
pomp and incense of the altar. Monsieur 1' Abbe 
Deschamps was his name. He was seated on a 
bench, and asked me to kneel down beside him. 
I have forgotten what he said to me, or what my 



PERE LACORDAIKE. 63 

reply was to him, but tlie remembrance of this 
first interview between mj soul and the repre- 
sentative of God, left the most pure and pro- 
found impression. I never enter the sacristy, 
or breathe the air of ''St. Michel de Dijon, that 
my first confession does not present itself to me 
under the form of this beautiful old man, 
coupled with my childish candor and frankness. 
The church of St. Michel itself participates 
in this pious devotion, which I never see without 
feeling emotions with which no other church 
has been able since to inspire me. My mother, St. 
Michel, and my incipient religion remain like 
an edifice in my mind — the first the most touch- 
ing and the most durable of all." 

It is easy to comprehend the high importance 
attached to an early religious education. It 
forms the basis of the succeeding years of youth, 
as also for the mature and declining years of 
manhood. 



CHAPTEE lY. 

YOrTH. 

I. 

It can be truly said that there is no period of 
life so effective as youth, ^ because there is no 
other period in which so much knowledge can 
be acquired with so great facility. 

At that age study demands less time and effort 
because of the flexibility of the intellectual 
faculties. Things engrave themselves so readily 
upon the memory of a child. His young and 
fresh imagination easily yields to whatever sub- 
ject seizes upon it. His will is docile and pliant 
as the branches of a young tree while his heart is 
still a new and virgin soil. It is the spring time 
of life, the moment for sewing seed, upon a 
fruitful soil, which only awaits culture to pro- 
duce fruits and flowers. 

(1) Adolescence is derived from tlie Latin verb "adolere,'' 
to burn perfume, which in its turn is derived from the 
Latin verb '' olere,'" to exhale an odor, because youth is in 
life the age of perfume and flowers, that is to say the age 
of all beautiful hopes. 



THE AGE OF POSSIBILITIES. 65 

This age is so fruitful in resources, that men 
the most richly endowed and who seem to have 
derived the greatest profit from life, would wil- 
lingly give all the knowledge of science they 
have acquired to become young again, under 
this one condition : that they might profit by 
the experience that has taught them the value of 
time — time, as rapid as precious, and the loss of 
which is irreparable. 

At this important j^eriod of life, the mind 
opens with the greatest facility to study. Re- 
flections are awakened and the judgment begins 
to form itself. The memory above all requires 
but slight effort to amass never-failing treasures. 

It is the age when the heart, already feeling 
the first movements of passion, should by the 
entire weight of its education be inclined 
towards good, cultivating pure and noble affec- 
tions, that it may not yield to the solicitations of 
sense. 

It is the age when the will is about to take a 
direction for good or bad, which will influence 
all the rest of his life, according to those pro- 
found and true words of the Holy spirit : "The 



66 YOUTH. 

young man will follow the way on which he has 
entered, and even to old age he will contimie to 
walk therein."— (Prov. XXII, 6.) 

Finally, it is the age when all good habits are 
formed, when agreeable manners are easily 
acquired, and when the imprint of a good edu- 
cation is stamped npon the moral being of a 
child, as a seal leaves npon the soft wax an image 
that time will not efface. Bnt if this period of 
yonth remain neglected, its flexibility will serve 
only to increase vicions tendencies.^ 

Le coenr d'nn homme virge, est nn vase prof ond, 
Lorsqne la premere ean qn'on y verse est impure, 
La mer y passerait sans laver la sonillure. 
Car I'abime est immense, et la taehe est an fond. 

— {A. de Musset.) 

Here religion which is so well calculated to 
adapt itself to all periods of life, provides one of 
the greatest succors for youth. The imposing 
solemnities of the first communion shine 
brightly before his eyes, and form the effective 
charm of the most beautiful day of his life. 
Then confirmation comes to fortify his faith and 

*Cereus in vitium flecti — {Horace). 



EELIGIOUS VIGILANCE. 67 

piety against the world, and his passions which 
seeks to shake both the one and tlie otlier. 

There is no period of life as in yonth that 
religion snrronnds her children by snch anxious 
and tender vigilance. She seems to wish that, in 
her school, it may be said, as of Jesns Christ by 
the Evangelist : " The child grew in wisdom, in 
age, and in grace before God and man." — (Luke 
I, 80.) Her wish is not only that the child each 
year should receive from nature increased height, 
strength and health, but she w^orks in him an- 
other development, much more precious. It is 
that his intelligence shall become enlightened, 
that his heart be opened to pure and noble affec- 
tions, and his will established in well doing. His 
manners, even, receive from her influence, some- 
thing amiable, and at the same time candid. In 
a word, it is the christian spirit permeating 
all the elements of an education otherwise firm 
and solid, to animate, vivify and functify, 
giving place for the free operations of Divine 
Grace through the entire being of the child. 

While God and angels contemplate this young- 
person walking on in innocence and virtue, men 



68 YOUTH. 

witness with admiration and affection his happj 
progress, and in secret bless the principles of a 
religions education ; becanse there is to be seen 
an inexplicable reflection of innocence and hap- 
piness that one must admire and which promises 
to spread a divine charm over one's whole ex- 
istence. 

It was this, unturned, without doubt, which 
inspired the following picture wi'itten grace- 
fully by the sister of M. de Chateau- 
briand : " Amiable innocence, if I dared 
to give a feeble picture of some of thj 
traits, I would say that thou boldest the place of 
virtue to infancy, of \\dsdom to the spring-time 
of life, of beauty to old age, and of happiness 
to the unfortunate. Being a stranger to our 
errors, thou dost shed none Init pure tears, and 
thy smiles descend from heaven. Beautiful in- 
nocence ! But what dangers surround thee ! 
Dost thou tremble? Dost thou try to 
shield thyself from the perils that menace thee ? 
Ko ; I see thee, standing, asleep, thy head sup- 
23orted on the altar." 

Yes, it is at the altar that the vouns^ man or 



PHYSICAL mFLUENCES. * 69 

young woman will find support, strength, and 
life. In its shadow they can be shielded from 
their enemies. There they will taste sweet 
peace and enjoy entire security. 

Beside moral and religious helps, there are 
others not to be neglected, because they are aids 
to temper the ardor of the senses, which are as 
so many doors through which the influences of 
evil can easily penetrate. For this reason, a 
vigorous exercise of the body is necessary ; such 
for example as gymnastics, swimming, taking 
long walks, joined to temperate life, direction in 
the choice of food, which should never be ex- 
citing in its nature. These are some of the ex- 
ternal means that influence the mind and heart 
more than one often thinks, and which are of 
great assistance in passing without danger 
through this critical and perilous epoch. 

It is not necessary that education at this age, 
under pretext of being more religious, should 
hold children and young people totally estranged 
from the world, because they should be prepared 
to live in the world. The illusions are greater 
for those who have never been brought into con- 



YO ' YOUTH. 

tact with the world, on being suddenly 
launched into society without having first been 
taught something of its vanities by actual expe- 
rience. How often a youth will stand on the 
tips of the toes, or will hang outside the wall 
of the college grounds, or the paternal 
mansion, to look at some worldly object. It 
is a species of enchantment for them. They 
look upon the world with admiration and ex- 
aggerate all its pleasures, for they do not suspect 
its discontent and bitterness. 

Finally, the time will come when the doors will 
be opened, and the child will enter that society 
which he has never seen, but which is the object 
he has so ardently coveted. What danger? 
Might it not have been better while using all the 
precautions that religion commands, to have 
raised the veil a little that concealed this great 
source of delusion, and made known to him 
some true and reasonable things, best suited to 
his capacity, about a world that it is well to 
know in order to avoid its quicksands ? 
n. 

Naturally a very important question presents 



EDUCATION AT HOME. 71 

itself here : Should our youth be educated at 
home or in college ? 

If the family is all it should be, it is without 
doubt greatly preferable not to send our children 
away to be educated. I do not hesitate to say 
that parents who are so situated in life as to be 
able with time and means at their command, to 
follow up and see crowned with success the edu- 
cation of their children, do well to keep them 
by them, as long as that shall be possible ; be- 
cause there is nothing as useful to a child as 
home influence, a precious treasure. Alas ! so 
easily dissipated at college. Nor should a child 
be sent too far away from home, for to some 
degree it will feel its heart orphaned. This is 
the age when the family affections are very 
sweet, and it is very painful for the child to find 
himself entirely surrounded by strangers. 

There are special instances even when in- 
struction should be given, and continued through 
the whole course of study. Without this the 
intellect of some children could never be devel- 
oped. In fact, we find plants which demand a 
cultivation peculiar to themselves, for which the 



T2 



YOUTH. 



usual care given would be not only insufficient, 
but injurious. So there are many children thus 
organized that a public education, so far from de- 
veloping the mind, would on the contrary, fail 
to make manifest what we have a right to expect. 
In some cases the delicate health of the child 
requires very especial consideration ; with others 
again, we find a hidden character that must be 
studied in order to conduct and direct it advan- 
tageously, or it may be a slow, sluggish temj)era- 
ment which requires a skilful simplicity to develop 
it. In such a case, a child should have placed 
over him at home a thoroughly religious tutor, 
who has, joined to distinguished talent, tact and 
self-devotion. Such a specie of instruction 
would be, no doubt, of the greatest value. 

With these exceptions, it must be acknowl- 
edged that there are many inconveniences 
arising from j)i'i^^te instruction. If the 
child remain too long at home, his advance- 
ment will be retarded and weak, for the want of 
some active stimulant. He will be wanting in 
zeal, he will be in danger also of becoming too 
reticent and timid. Above all, will parents have 



PUBLIC EDUCATION. 7S 

sufficient firmness to prevent this manner of in- 
struction from degenerating into effeminacy by 
too much indulgence ? Such are some of the 
relative advantages and inconveniences in fol- 
lowing this first mode of education. 

Public education has its own peculiar advan- 
tages. The college is a little community where the 
pre-eminence accorded to labor and merit is a 
disputed point. There you meet with encour- 
agement and success, as also reverses and defeats, 
and it is important that men being destined to 
social life should make an early apprenticeship. 
Emulation, provided it be wisely employed, 
may aid in the development of the intel- 
lect and stimulate zeal to labor. The charac- 
ters of children become yielding and flexible by 
associating habitually with others of the same 
age. The little caprices, the fancied necessities, 
too often tolerated perhaps by the excessive 
condescension of a mother, are insensibly 
effaced by continual contact with other wills, and 
frequent associations with masters of tact and 
self-devotion. 

One important advantage of a public education 



74 EARLY TEARS. 

is the equality established among childi*en thus 
placed, without respect to the rank or fortune but 
which this world values so highly. It may be said 
that college life represents society as it should al- 
ways be, and sucli as it ought always to be, since 
the authority there is given into the hands of men 
rendered superior by experience, talent, science 
and character, — in fact, by all that constitutes 
marked merit, — and upon which the scholar's 
distinction may repose for his qualities of mind 
and heart. 

Besides, a child fonns friendships dm-ing his 
stay in these houses, which relations in future 
life may prove useful as well as agreeable. The 
friends of our youth, when they are virtuous and 
good, often hereafter, render us the greatest 
service. In our declining years these friends of 
our youth come again to rejoice our hearts — illu- 
minate by their sweet memories, tellino^ of 
frankness, innocence, and goodness. 

These advantages to be derived from a public 
education would seem to indicate this as the best 
choice for a young man to make. As a general 
proposition, we should say here, that it is not 



Y5 

altogether the same thing for a joung 
woman ; at least we should be more cautious 
in giving it our approbation. A woman is 
not destined, like a man, to perform the duties 
of public life. God has called her to duties 
more modest, but not less useful, which she must 
exercise in the family circle. The family is the 
sphere of action reserved for the woman. It is 
her world. It seems, then, that from her earliest 
infancy she should receive instruction in the 
sphere to which she is called, and be taught by 
the salutary examples of her mother these 
duties to which one day she will have to 
turn her own attention. Nevertheless, it may 
be said that for educating the intellect some 
years passed in a religious school are ordinarily 
very profitable to a young woman. 

But, aside from the good results a public edu- 
cation may have, it is, notwithstanding, full of 
inconveniences. The child always finds herself 
isolated from her family. She is surrounded by 
companions, among whom may enter sometimes 
one who scatters pernicious influences, dangerous 
suggestions, perhaps, utter devastation. Evil 



Y6 EARLY YEARS. 

communicates itself so readily among children ! 
A few moments often is sufficient to blemish an 
innocence, which, surrounded by the most vigilant 
care, has been preserved for long years in the 
family. It is with children as with men, 
wherever a great number live in common, 
each with their prejudices, their inclinations 
and different characters, there are relations and 
contacts filled with danger. There exist for 
children perils in a public school, such as men 
encounter in the life of the world, only still 
greater because of the levity of their age. 

Is there not then a plan to conciliate all, and 
can we not unite the advantages of a public 
education to that of a private one? We are 
glad to quote here the sentiments of a gentleman 
of experience : 

" I have a decided leaning towards that sys- 
tem which leaves the larger part of education to 
the influence of the family. To justify such a 
decision in my mind and even to meet out praise 
for it with some complacency, I have a some- 
what extended experience and memories filled 
with pleasure. I have not words to express my 



HOME AND SCHOOL. Y7 

happiness in recalling the events of more than 
thirty years, the days of my college life, having 
at the same time had the good fortune to pass 
this period in my home beside the paternal 
hearth. We went to the college to receive les- 
sons from our professors and returned from them 
with each recurring day's allotted task. 

^ -K- -x- ^ -x- 

"Classes once commenced, the attention gener- 
ally increased, our zeal was animated by degrees, 
emulation began to kindle, study became all 
our ambition, and time passed without any 
care but to write our exercises and learn 
our lessons. Happy, careless youth, who will 
regret so soon that period which has passed for- 
ever, to be replaced by the pre-occupations of 
another age ! 

"The sound of the clock, imposing silence 
upon our masters, restored to us our joyous pas- 
times and unsealed our lips. We returned to the 
paternal roof, where we awaited a reproving 
look or an encouraging smile, according as we 
come to announce defeat or success, be it merited 
reproach, or commendation, our mother's heart 



^8 EARLY YEARS. 

much more rejoiced than our own at a word of 
praise. 

"In the meantime the hour of work was 
come and received great encouragement from the 
example of my father. I made my studies un- 
der his eyes and while he was working assidu- 
ously himself. On fine days when I had finished 
my task, we went out into the blooming fields, 
in the cool valleys, in the wood filled with 
shade, to look for solitude and sweet repose. We 
read, we conversed, we spoke of our work, of 
our studies, the rewards they would merit and to 
prepare ourselves for the future. From time to 
time some grave thought found place amongst 
the thousand distractions of our walk, and I re- 
turned made happy by the events of the closing 
day, and ready to welcome with joy the coming 
one, — ^thankful for the spring-time and its flow- 
ers, glad for the summer and its fi-uitful harvest, 
while heaven smiled upon us with its azure 
blue, happy above all for that innocence of 
heart which I retained,less from ignorance of evil, 
than from the facility I found to resist it under 
the eyes of a christian father and virtuous 



CHOICE OF A SCHOOL. Y9 

mother ! " {''Ideas upon Education^^ hy a Pro- 
fessor of Philosophy.) 

It is certain that there is nothing so agreeable 
and lovely as to be surrounded by family influ- 
ence, acting in union with college encouragement 
and advantages. 

But it is not always possible to employ these 
means. There are circumstances oftentimes 
which require children to be sent away from 
their parents, under the certainty of not being 
able to procure suitable instruction for them 
under home inflaences. 

In this case, there is one thing of sovereign 
importance, in fact a duty of the greatest gravity, 
and of which the consequences are incalculable : 
that is to choose with the utmost precaution a 
school in which to place your children. 



III. 



We do not wish here to enter into any details 
calculated to attack either persons or things. We 
mention no names, nor do we find fault with any 
particular instruction where the element of evil is 
well known to exist, where religion is not hon- 



80 EARLY YEARS. 

ored, and where it does not form the basis of 
instruction, — withont which, a child cannot pre- 
serve its innocence, keep its manners pure, and 
practise the duties of christian piety. If such 
houses exist, most assuredly, it is not there that 
christian parents should bring up their children. 

They would be, I do not fear to say it, under 
a sacred obligation to look elsewhere for a school 
where an equally solid education is conducted 
on religious principles. 

^'What do we do in our colleges?" says M. 
Saint Mare de Girardin ; '' IVe cultivate and 
develop the mind, but not the heart." 

Alas ! too often are not the mind and the heart 
in the saddest condition ? Is one seriously occu- 
pied with the cultivation of the intellect, when 
out of a class of iifty or sixty children eight or 
ten only receive attention, leaving the rest to 
follow as they may, because they have less facil- 
ity to learn and give less honor to their masters ? 

What becomes of the numerous children less 
favored by nature and neglected by their mas- 
ters, but who call for the most devoted zeal ? 
They assist evening and morning at their lessons, 



THE COLLEGE CHAPLALN". 81 

and witness the progress of their happy rivals. 
To them their tasks are imposed as a punish- 
ment — their indiscretions are subjects of sar- 
casm and disdain, they live without emulation 
as without encouragement, and they soon lose 
all energy, and all hope of success. As to students 
who succeed through emulation, uninfluenced by 
religion and filled with pride, how often does it 
serve only to awaken in them an exaggerated ambi- 
tion. May they not be misled in life, and per- 
haps at some future day have reason to desj)ise 
their fraudulent crowns ! 

And the education of the heart, which is of the 
most importance, — what becomes of that ? 

One will say : But in colleges there are chap- 
lains ! There are chaplains ! To this assertion 
we feel almost unable to reply. Alas! Yes, 
for we fear to wound too deeply the feelings of 
those respectable Priests, who would act justly, 
but whose action is paralyzed. 

Do the pupils know this stranger in a black 
robe, who only appears to them on Sunday in 
the chapel, and Thursday in a chair which is 



02 EARLY YEARS. 

located in an obscure stndy-hall, the habitual 
sojourn of dissipation ? 

Let ns listen to an old chaplain of "Henri lY 
College," Le P. Lacordaire : '' No one is more to 
be pitied than a college chaplain, the butt of 
suspicion from the lay masters, and unknown to 
the children, who never see him but at the altar. 
Without any tie of affection whatever, but sur- 
rounded by an atmosphere of cold restraint ; he 
walks like a sad shadow in a house of strangers. 
He is not a father, not a professor, not a domes- 
tic, nor a Priest speaking to man, with the inde- 
pendence of the faith. He holds an anonymous 
position almost invariably during the week days. 
He descends to the chapel on Sunday, and his 
flock is led into him. He scarcely recognizes a 
child amongst them ! 

" If through a reverent kindness he is not actu- 
ally mocked, he is left to pass with a sort of 
charitable pity, and provided the service be not 
too prolonged, the pupil will go out content, and 
this once only in eight days — for I do not speak 
of the office of Thursday, which costs but one- 



THE COLLEGE CHAPLAIN. 83 

half hour of patience from the victims of a Uni- 
versity Mass. 

" In the interval the poor Priest strives to take 
away the child from his studies a short time, in 
order that he may say to him : 'Let peace be 
with you ! for I am one of those who seek the lost 
sheep of Israel, to give them life. Ego sum 
qui loq'iior tecum. Will you receive me, or must I 
go away?' The students make answer to the 
stranger, who speaks to them in whatever lan- 
guage seems best suited to his feelings, and takes 
his leave. In this manner days are succeeded by 
years. I say nothing of the detail of mischief - 
making or the designedly prepared humiliations, 
nor of the many accidental events which occur 
to him from persons and things. I attack the 
situation such as it is in itself. A Priest in 
the most unpretending parish is with his 
own. No person is forced to come to mass, 
and he knows his flock. He has seen their 
fathers die, and baptized their sons. He has 
done some good amongst the men in the midst 
of whom he lives. But to whom has a college 
chaplain been of service? He simply assists as 



84 EARLY YEARS. 

a witness from heaven of the corruption of all 
that is most lovely in the world, and if by acci- 
dent he saves from vice some fortunate child, he 
sees him disappear at the end of a few days, and 
dares not even express regret, so apparent!}^ in- 
different must he appear." 

We think that Le P. Lacordaire would to-day 
essentially modify his opinions, which seem very 
severe, and we are happy to say that in the Uni- 
versity of France, as in the Lycees and colleges, 
the students receive a religious as well as secu- 
lar education. Poor children ! who are to be 
pitied, because, at this age they are tenderly 
inclined in all their affections to the charms 
of a pious life, and the joys of a pure con- 
science ! an inestimable treasure, by which the 
splendor of the greatest genius is effaced. There 
is an indefinable weariness, accompanied by pro- 
found eiinui in the accomplishment of religious 
duties, that are fulfilled only by the aid of a dry 
discipline, without soul, and which secretly are 
scorned and despised. 

When their studies are finished, many amongst 
them become entirely perverted, and we have 



IREELIGIOrS EDUCATION. 85 

seen more than once Yoltaires at sixteen years of 
age, with the laugh of derision on the lips, and 
insult in the mouth. They laugh at all that re- 
ligion and morals consider the most sacred. 

Religion, which should be the entire founda- 
tion of education, "is there," says M. Dupan- 
loup, "like a weeping mother, to whom a suspi- 
cious and skeptical father has forbidden the 
privilege of giving religious instruction to her 
children, and she is forced to clasp them to her 
bosom in the secrecy of the domestic hearth, 
and there in a few measured and hurried mo- 
ments anxiously lavish upon them her lessons 
and counsels. In haste she delivers to them the 
dearest treasures of wisdom and love, with which 
her heart is filled." 

But alas, vainly ! Poor children ! for they do 

not know how to be grateful to her. The 

youngest amongst them have learned from the 

members of her household to laugh at her gray 

hairs. The most respectful do not understand 

her accents, and look upon her as a poor,unhappy 

stranger ! What a misfortune to have wished to 

secularize education to such a degree as to re- 
6 



86 EARLY YEARS. 

move that influence which should always be its 
soul aiul life ! Let one examine the physiogno- 
mies of children brought up without the relig- 
ious element, and one will see in the lines of the 
face the unequivocal indications of a deep rest- 
lessness of soul." 

IV. 

It is sweet and consoling to cast one's eyes 
about a college of young students instructed by 
profoundly religious men, in which duty and 
conscience are the great motives of life and ac- 
tion ! What an immense guarantee for the care 
which will be given to the mind, to the heart, in 
fact to the entire education ! above all if these 
men have embraced a state of life which devote 
them to every abnegation and sacrifice, indeed 
to all the immolation of a sacerdotal or relig- 
ious life. Then the transition is neither dan- 
gerous nor painful, for children to be withdrawn 
from the immediate influence of the family. It 
is indeed placed in'another family, but one which 
is found ^not less tender, not less devoted. 

"Maternal education, says M. de Lamartine, 



M. DE LAMAKTINE. 87 

has given me expansion of soul, and filled me 
with sincerity and love. I fell from this height 
upon the cold, hard soil of a tumultuous school, 
peopled with 200 children, unknown, jesting, 
perverse and vicious ; governed bj unpolished 
buisquer and self-interested masters, whose polite 
but insipid language did not disguise from mj 
eyes for one day their indifference. 

"I held them in horror, and looked upon them 
as jailors. I passed the hours of recreation sad 
and alone in looking at them through the bars of 
a grating which enclosed the court-yard where I 
turned to look upon the heavens and wooded 
heights of the mountains of Beaujolai8,and sighed 
after the freedom and object images of happi- 
ness I had left there. The plays of my com- 
rades made me sad, and their features were re- 
pugnant to me. All breathed such an air of 
wickedness, deceit and corruption, that my 
heart bore in indignation. The morose state 
into which this sudden immersion, at the 
bottom of that sewer of children had thrown 
me, was such that the idea of suicide, of which 
I had never heard spoken, forcibly assailed me. 



88 EAKLY YEARS. 

I remember to have passed days and nights in 
searching for some means by which I might end a 
life I could no longer support. This condition 
of mind never ceased for a moment all the time 
I remained in the honse,and after some months of 
this suffering, I resolved to escape." 

He did escape, but was followed, taken 
back, and put into confinement. Finally, the 
force of circumstances compelled them to return 
him to his mother's house. There he found 
again through the tenderness of his mother the 
joys of his early years, and this good mother pro- 
cured for him the inestimable blessing of a 
christian education. 

Let us listen still to the same author : "My 
mother placed me in a Jesuit college at Belley, 
upon the frontiers of Savoie, which then was held 
in high renown, not only in France but in Italy, 
Germany and Switzerland. In entering there, a 
few days only were sufficient to show me the dif- 
ference between an education venally sold to un- 
fortunate children, for the love of gold by these 
cunning teachers, and an education given in the 



M. DE LAMARTESTE. 89 

name of God, and inspired by religious devo- 
tion, for which heaven only is the recompense. 

" I did not find mj mother there, but I found 
my God, purity, prayer and love, mingled with 
a sweet paternal vigilance, expressed in friendly, 
familiar tones of voice, by children loved and 
loving, whose faces bore the manifest mark of 
happiness. I had been soured and hardened, but 
here I was softened and Captivated. I adapted 
myself readily and willingly to the yoke, that 
these excellent masters knew how to render 
sweet and light. All their artifice consisted in 
interesting each one of us in the success of the 
school, and in managing us through our own 
will and by our own enthusiasm. 

" The smallest act of the masters and pupils 
seemed to be animated by the Divine Spirit, all 
our souls had found their wings, and leaped with 
natural flight towards the good and the beauti- 
ful. The most rebellious themselves were raised 
up and carried away in the general movement. 
It was thus that I was made what could be done 
for a man, not by thorough compulsion, but by 
inspiration. 



90 EAELT YEARS. 

''The religious sentiments which animated 
our masters, animated us also. Thev had the 
skill to render that sentiment sensible and 
amiable, and at the same time to create in our 
hearts a love for God. With such a lever in- 
troduced into our hearts, thej were enabled to 
accomplish all they desired. 

"As to the masters, they did not feign affec- 
tion for us. They loved us, as saints love their 
duties, as the laborer loves his work, as the proud 
love their pride. They commenced by making 
me happy, and ended by making me wise. Piety 
was re-animated in my soul, and became my mo- 
tive for zeal in my studies. I formed an intimate 
friendship with the children of my age, as pure, 
and as happy as myself, and these friendships 
made ue one family, so to speak." 

When a child has had the happiness of being 
brought up by a christian mother, it is a very 
painful transition to make, from the family to a 
college ; from the hearth of affection and piety, 
into the midst of selfishness and indifference. 

Permit us here to quote a very interesting 
page from the memoirs of Father Lacordaire : 



PERE LACORDAIEE. 91 

"At ten years of age my mother obtained for me 
in the Lycee at Dijon a half-pay fellow-ship. I 
entered the college when the scholastic year had 
already two-thirds expired. Then, for the first 
time, the hand of sorrow seized hold of me, and 
in revealing itself to me, turned me towards 
God with impulses not only greatly increased in 
affection, but more decided and serious. From 
the first day my comrades took me for their 
laughing-stock or victim. I could not take one 
step that their brutality did not find secret means 
to attack me. For several weeks together even, 
I was deprived by violence of every kind of food 
except my soup and bread. 

"To escape this bad treatment, I went into the 
study hall during recreations, when that was pos- 
sible, and concealed myself there under a bench, 
that I might not be found by my masters or 
comrades. There alone, without protection, 
abandoned by all, I shed religious tears before 
God, offering him my earliest sufferings as a sac- 
rifice, and raising myself towards the cross of 
His Son by a very tender union. 

" Brought up by a strong and christian moth- 



92 EABLY YEAB8. 

er, religion had passed from her breast into 
mine, as virgin's milk, without bitterness. Suf- 
ferings were transforming this precious liquor 
into manlj blood, which rendered me pure and 
made me in fact an infant martyr. 

''My sufferings ceased at the vacation, and 
were not resumed at the re-opening of school, 
perhaps because they were wearied with perse- 
cuting me, or perhaps I may have merited this 
freedom from a less degree of innocence or 
candor. 

"At this time a young man came to the Lycee 
from twenty-four to twenty-five years of age, 
who had just left the Normal school, from 
whence he had been called to take charge of an 
elementary class. Notwithstanding I was not 
one of his pupils, he met me and took a fancy 
to me. He occupied two isolated rooms in the 
remote part of the establishment, and I was per- 
mitted to go there to carry on some part of my 
studies under his protection. Thus for three 
years he lavished upon me gratuitously the most 
assiduous literary care. Though I was a scholar 
of only sixteen years, he made me read a great 



PERE LACORDAIRE. 93 

deal, and learn by heart tlie whole of Yoltaire, 
and Racine's tragedies, which he had the 
patience to hear me recite. A friend of letters, 
he tried to inspire me with a like taste; a man of 
rectitude and honor, he labored to make me 
amiable, chaste, sincere, and generous, as also to 
break down the effervesence of a nature that 
possessed but little docility. 

'' To him religion was a stranger. He never 
mentioned the subject to me, and I maintained 
the same silence towards him. If he had not 
been deprived of this precious gift of faith, he 
might have been the protector of my soul, as he 
was the good genius of my intelligence. But 
God, who had sent him to me as a second father 
and a true teacher, wished by permission of His 
providence that I might descend into the abyss 
of incredulity, to become better acquainted some 
day with the culminated glory of his revealed 
light. Monsieur Delahay, my venerated master, 
left me thus to follow the inclination which car- 
ried all my associates far away from religious 
faith, but which retained me upon the elevated 



94: EABLY YEARS. 

summit of honor and literature, where he had 
staked his own life. 

''The events of 1815 had a premature charm 
for me. He commenced the study of law. I 
have always appreciated his memory with every 
happy circumstance of my life. 

" I had made my first communion at the age 
of twelve in 1814. This was my last religious 
joy, and the last stroke of sunshine reflected 
from the soul of my mother upon my own. 
Soon the shadows began to deepen around me; a 
chilling darkness enveloped me on all sides and 
I no longer received from God through my con- 
science any signs of life. Being an ordinary 
scholar, no signal success marked the course of 
my first studies. My intelligence was lowered 
at the same time with my manners, and I walked 
in this way of degradation, which is the chas- 
tisement of disbelief and the great misfortune of 
reason. But suddenly, in rhetoric, the germs of 
which M. Delahay had deposited in my mind 
began to open, and crowns without number came 
at the close of the year to awaken my pride, 
much more than to recompense my labors. A 



PEKE LAGGED AIRE. 95 

course of poor philosophy, without extent or 
depth, terminated the course of my classical 
studies." 

The time of Henri Lacordaire in the Lycee of 
Dijon, to be so written, left remembrances in his 
mind that were not effaced for a long time. His 
studious and serious character, his figure, even, 
thin and regular, added to features, with nicely 
accentuated lines, his large eyes, his forehead 
wide and open, above all the prodigious success 
of the last few years, had strongly impressed his 
young school-fellows. He was spoken of often 
as an industrious student and as a singularly 
gifted poet. It is said of him, in his time, that 
when the day scholars assembled under the porch 
before the opening of school, the little children 
would climb up upon the bars of the grating to 
see the boarders defile through the court, and in 
pointing out Henri Lacordaire, would exclaim : 
" There he comes ! Look, there he comes !" 

The memoirs continue : "In entering the law 
school at Dijon, I found once more the little 
house of my mother and the infinite charm of 
domestic life, with all its affection and modesty. 



96 EAKLY YEAUS. 

There was nothing superfluous in her house. On 
the contrary, a severe simplicity, united to the 
most exact economy, was practised. In it was 
shed the perfume of an age no longer ours, and 
something holy that belonged to the virtues of a 
widowed mother of four children, seeing them 
already budding into youth. She was full of 
hope that she might leave behind her a genera- 
tion of honest people, and perhaps amongst 
them some men of distinction. 

"One only cloud of sadness gave pain to this 
blessed woman, and that was when she thought 
that not one christian child had she near her. 
!N'ot one of her children was able to accompany 
her to partake of the holy mysteries of religion." 

It is evidently of the highest importance to 
carefully select the best place in which to place 
a child, at this decisive age, which will exercise 
such a profound influence upon his entire life. 
Attention then and vigilance, O, mothers! If 
you place your childi*en in boarding-schools 
where religion is not regarded as the most neces- 
sary affair of instruction, the time is not far dis- 
tant when they will be corrupted and take on 



PERE LACORDAIRE. 97 

and habituate themselves to the most shameful 
vice. For the most part men wliose conduct re- 
volts you and of whose principles you are afraid, 
have brought them from boarding-schools, where 
they' were placed to receive instruction, and 
which, so to speak, have incrusted their very 
bones. 

Mistrust your own innocence; it will be fatal 
to that of your children. Do not suffer your- 
self to repose m fanciful security, and regard as 
impossible the disorders that your heart is not 
capable of suspecting. It is to your husbands, 
that belongs the duty of taking the initiative 
and giving counsel in this matter. For would 
they wish that their children should see and 
hear, what the greater part amongst them have 
seen and heard in the days of their youth, in the 
schools where they have been reared and in- 
structed? Would they not love better to see 
them remain ignorant all their lives, than to 
have them taught the sciences at the risk and the 
loss of that which a man should consider the 
most precious ? 

In one of his letters to young people, Pere 



98 EARLY YEAES. 

Lacordaire makes the following remarks to a 
young man brought up under christian influ- 
ences, and expresses great regret that the ele- 
ment of religion is not made the basis of educa- 
tion : 

" You have now under your eyes the result of 
another education than the one you have re- 
ceived. The absolute want not only of religion 
but of elevated ideas : an abject materialism, an 
inexpressible debasement of mind. Be not 
astonished if you meet young Protestants whose 
faith and reason are in a better state, for as there 
are good Catholics, so there are sincere Protest- 
ants. It is probable that those of whom you 
speak to me have been brought up under the 
family influence, or in some conservative manner 
have received the same favor as yourself. Hu- 
manly speaking, it may be that the Protestant 
faith is easier to follow than our own, precisely 
because in a great part it is human, outside the 
common moral law, and requires only those sacri- 
fices easy to carry. Certainly in this is to be 
found one of the supports of Protestantism. It 
gives religion in little doses ; that which is suit- 



PEEK LACORDAIRE. 99 

able to minds, for whom religion is too little, 
and for whom the true faith is too much. 

"Let us then never forget the influence of ex- 
ample, at all periods of life so powerful, and 
above all, in' the period of youth, which is nat- 
urally more imitative. "If the men who sur- 
round a child are pious, full of dignity and 
amiable, that child will burn with a desire to 
resemble them, and moreover will rise to their 
level. If they are irreligious, unrestrained and 
unamiable, the child imbued with their errors 
and their vices, will be as detestable as them- 
:Selves." — Devoirs des hommes^par Silvio Pellico. 



CHAPTEK Y. 

THE INTELLIGENCE. 
I. 

The title of this chapter presents to us a dis- 
tinction of sovereign importance in the question 
which occupies us. What we call education of 
the intelligence ought not to be confounded with 
instruction. Instruction is the effect produced 
by teaching, enseignement, which latter word 
derives its meaning from one or two Latin 
words : ''^signumn^'^ sign, mark, imprint, or the 
verb : ''^signa/pe^'' to engrave. The meaning of 
the word thus is : to engrave or make an impres- 
sion on the mind of the one instructed, and it 
indicates that he learns ; that is to say that he 
takes in some manner by his retentive memory 
the object of the lesson. That lesson, lection^ 
(lecUo^ from the Latin word Hegere^^ to collect, 
to amass), contains only the thing learned. All 
these collected elements, in explanations and 



INSTKITCTION AND EDUCATION. 101 

books, that is to say in the lessons, develop in- 
struction, a word derived from the Latin verb 
^Hnstruere^^^ which means to re-nnite, heap nj),reg- 
nlate, because to instruct implies the construction 
of an intellectual edifice, in which the master 
performs the role of architect, re-uniting, laying 
up, and disposing the materials which are to 
compose this scientific edifice, and by the aid of 
which he is about to form and develop the mind. 

Instruction and education are two things 
entirely distinct. Instruction provides the intel- 
lect and memory with a certain quantity of knowl- 
edge, and in that view it is only a means of edu- 
cation. That is so true that a savant may be a 
man whose intelligence is not completely formed. 
In fact, how many men there are who possess a 
great fund of knowledge, but otherwise have no 
judgment, are without taste, slow to compre- 
hend, unable to comprehend with any clearness, 
or to express their thoughts with perspicuity, 
and have no facility in composition ! Such, for 
example, are scholastics, and those who are noth- 
ing but crudities. Kichardson says : "A class of 

savants who bury themselves in books, dragging 

7 



102 THE INTELLiaENCE. 

themselves along amidst the rubbish of the dead 
languages, without showing one spark of orig- 
inal knowledge. Thej pass all their lives 
in a store-house of quotations, able, perhaps, 
to write notes and commentaries upon the 
texts of others, but whose whole glory con- 
sists in knowing the beauties of two thou- 
sand years ago in a foreign tongue, that they 
can only admire but never imitate in their 
own." These men have read much and learned 
much, but their minds are not formed or elevated. 
Let us on the contrary look upon a man whose 
intelligence has been cultivated. Without doubt 
he will be familiar with but few subjects,but as his 
mind has been mucli better disciplined, fash- 
ioned, and formed, with these few subjects, he 
will, as the result proves, be much more capable 
of learning and understanding new things when 
they come to be presented to his mind. 

The word intelligence has an etymology which 
explains this idea well. It signifies ^'ifihis 
legere^^ to read within, to have the ability to 
penetrate that which should be revealed to 
others ; in a word it expresses the power to com- 
prehend, to judge, and to appreciate. 



MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 103 

The error of many persons is to mistake no- 
tions about the studies of young people; the 
end proposed is not merely to obtain knowl- 
edge,but to learn how to exercise themselves in it. 
They ought not to attach so much importance to 
the learning of Latin and Greek, literature, 
philosophy, or even history — studies which the 
yoimg will perhaps forget ; but they should 
fortify their mind, memory, judgment and intel- 
ligence, for all of their faculties will remain un- 
changed. A young man will have made his 
studies well, if he has been developed up to the 
point where he will be able to instruct himself. 

" It is nothing," says Yanvenargues, "to be ig- 
norant of many things, if at the same time you 
are capable of receiving them, and all that is 
wanting is to learn them." 

How a master deludes himself in crowding 
the head of a young student with a multitude of 
studies without interesting him sufficiently in 
the only desirable result, which should be the 
development of the faculties, and to form men 
of intelligence ! 

It is very evident that when the subjects of 



104 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

study become too numerous, the foundation will 
crumble and the intellect be destroyed. How 
ean the mind be at ease under such a rubbish of 
knowledge, badly collected and ill compre- 
hended ? At most only a mass of erudition will 
be acquired, without system or regularity. His 
instruction will often be like a library in disor- 
der, where numerous volumes of diverse works 
are thrown together pell-mell, of which the pro- 
prietor has not learned to make use. From 
thence comes all those '* demi-savants," some- 
times men of passable depths of mind, but very 
feeble intellects. 

Plato has said : "Absolute ignorance is not the 
greatest of evils, nor the most to be feared. 
Much knowledge, ill directed, is something 
worse." 

And Bossuet, in speaking of the education of 
the Dauphin, said : 

"Our principal care has been to give him all 
these things appropriately, and each one of them 
in its time, that he might digest them easily, that 
they might become suitably nourishing." 

But by the precipitate means in present use, 



CLASSICAL STUDY. 105 

will one ever arrive at extensive knowledge ? 
'No, because in order that instruction may be 
extensive and solid, it is necessary that the mind 
should be rendered capable to learn. Otherwise, 
as Yanvenargues says : " It is easier for us to 
tinge the mind with an infinity of knowledge 
than to thoroughly possess a small amount." 

The general complaint is, in latter years 
especially, of the comparatively long time given 
to the classical studies, believing that studying 
the grammar of the Latin and Greek languages, 
the principal and model languages of literature, 
ought not to occupy so much time in a man's 
life. 

Eight years to make the man a scholar in 
rhetoric ! What a loss of time ! And then he may 
not be able after this long and painful study, to 
obtain a perfect testimonial, in order to enter on 
the career to which he believes himself called. If 
in the course of studies, one result only is 
sought, "to become a bachelor of arts," we must 
confess that eight years are as a period of pre- 
paration, infinitely too long, and that in a much 
shorter time the desired result might be obtained. 



106 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

But the end we propose is so different in con- 
ducting a scholar through this long laborious 
and painful way of instruction ! One has not 
only in view for him to go through his classes, 
but to make his studies, which is a very different 
thing. There is not only the desire to instruct, 
but a wish first of al] to form, develop, and 
elevate his intelligence. How many scholars 
have passed eight consecutive years of their 
lives in these halls, over the door of which can 
be read these words : " Eighth class," " Seventh 
class," '' Sixth class," etc. ; and are finally hap- 
pily arrived to that of rhetoric. They have 
passed their examinations, and have been given 
the written attestation to the fact, but have they 
mastered their studies ? Is their intelligence 
formed ? Have they become entirely capable to 
learn ? 

And, amongst them, how many will you 
find answering to this description, alas ! but 
too faithfully delineated in these words of 
Daguessean : 

" To think little, to speak not at all, to ques- 
tion nothing, to inhabit only the exterior of the 
soul and to cultivate superficially his mind; to 



THE HUMANITIES. 107 

fly, from subject to subject, without analysing 
one, rapidly culling all the flowers and never 
giving to the fruit time to arrive at maturity: 
this is a tame picture of what in our day one is 
pleased to honor with the title of intelligence ! 
And, yet, is it not a great indulgence accorded 
to our young people, that have been so neglect- 
fully instructed, but by the world are called in- 
telligent ? Where do we see the develop- 
ment of the mind in these souls ? M'me de 
Sevigne once called them 'Little prodigies at 
fifteen, and veritable simpletons all the rest of 
their lives ! ' I repeat, have the humanities, thus 
called because their office is to discipline the 
man, disciplined this child, who has thus degen- 
erated under their touch ? Have his faculties 
acquired large development ? Alas ! every day 
verifies the contrary by living and deplorable 
answers to the question ! It is for this reason 
we insist upon the point that it is necessary to 
labor less to instruct them than to educate the 
intellect." 

n. 
One should not estimate the studies made by 
the young alone by the degree of knowledge 



108 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

they are able to give, for evidently that is of 
small importance ; we must consider the end to 
be attained. The knowledge acquired is not 
supposed to be very extended, nor very pro- 
found, but they form the scholar in employing 
principally for that end the study of the lan- 
guages and literature, and in habituating young 
people gradually to the exercise of translation, 
analysis, copying, and of literary compo- 
sition; all of which are admirably adapted to 
attain the end proposed, which is the develop- 
ment of the intellect. 

The man is made what he should be, pre- 
eminently through the medium of thoughts and 
words. For this reason study ought to cultivate 
in the young this double power, and looking for- 
ward to that result, should be placed at an early 
hour in a situation to taste and imitate the works 
of men who have given to their thoughts and 
words the most perfect expression. 

But why study Latin and Greek ? Why those 
translations and those difficult rudiments? 
Cannot the intellect of children be suf- 
ficiently developed without haAdng recourse to 



THE CLASSICS USEFUL. 109 

the ancient languages ? Then thej are the dead 
languages, they are never spoken ; why then 
must they be learned ? and, finally, the reply is 
sometimes made — My son is to be a commercial 
man, in which case this study of the languages 
will be perfectly useless. It is not always that 
the like objections are expressly made, be- 
cause one desires to resist the imposing authori- 
ties of the age, and of men best versed in 
the affairs of education ; but, at best, the study 
of the ancient languages is submitted to, as a 
lamentable necessity. This is a gross error ; for 
whatever may be the career chosen in life for 
the child, provided his rank, means, and time, 
will permit, the study of the ancient languages 
will be eminently useful to him, in introducing 
him to the most beautiful monuments of the mind 
and of language, and will dispose him to rise to 
the most serious studies, -and more especially to 
the exigencies of his vocation. We must not judge 
of a translation by the momentary result that it 
produces. You will often see phrases very ill 
translated, but one must look to the effect, of 
the end, the future. Besides, a work translated 



110 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

with care gives perspicuity and flexibility to 
the mind; to the thoughts, vigor and simplicity; 
to the style, that clearness, that conciseness, in 
not saying too much or too little, which fur- 
nishes food to the reader without satiety, and 
occupies the mind without fatiguing it. The 
most capable men, geniuses the most celebrated, 
are formed by this slow and difiicult exercise. 

Without speaking of the ancients, Balzac 
passed thirty years in translating Guinte-Curce ; 
Pierre Corneille translated : " L'Imitation de 
Jesus Christ"; Boileau, "Le Traite du sublime," 
of Longin; Jean Racine, "Les Hymnes du 
breviaire romain," "Le Banquet de Platon," 
etc.; Moliere translated, "Lucrece"; J. J. Rous- 
seau, "Tacite"; La Harpe, "Les Cesars de Sue- 
tone," and " La Lusiade de Camoens," etc. At 
the close of his life, Bossuet, during an illness, 
and while still in bed, translated the Psalms into 
French verse. Previous to this, he had trans- 
lated many extracts from profane authors. We 
could give many more such quotations. One 
translation well done is always an evidence of 
accuracy of mind, of rectitude in the judgment, 



TRANSLATION. Ill 

of purity and taste in style. Nothing is 
easier than to amplify and make phrases, but 
nothing is more empty or insignificant ; while 
an exact translation, easy and elegant, infallibly 
denotes a solid and cultivated mind. And besides, 
by this exercise one learns to know much better 
the genius, mechanism, and beautiful construc- 
tion of his own tongue, because all this forms 
an indispensable unity in the work; and then the 
"chefs-d'oeuvre" of antiquity are the sources from 
whence all our beautiful modern literature flows. 
Amongst the languages which are used to trans- 
late from, those of which the knowledge is the 
best adapted to educate the intellect, those that 
have always appeared the most proper to perfect 
in young people these two great human facul- 
ties, thought and speech, are evidently first with 
the mother tongue, then the Latin and Greek. I 
say, with the mother tongue, for, it is well un- 
derstood that the knowledge of this tongue and 
the literature of the country to which one be- 
longs should occupy the first rank in our studies. 
As for the last two, says M. de Maistre: "JN'oth- 
ing equals the dignity of the Latin tongue ; it 



112 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

was spoken bj the peuple-roi, wliicli stamped 
that character of grandeur in the history of 
human nature, that the most perfect modern 
tongue has not been able to grasp. 

It is also the language of civilization, mixed 
with that of our barbarian fathers; it has been 
able to refine, to make plastic, and so to speak, 
spiritualize those gross idioms which have be- 
come what we see them to-day." 

We may add also that Latin is the tongue of 
science, the mother tongue of the French, and 
of almost all the modern languages, and finally, 
the language of the Catholic Church. 

It is important to remark here that children 
have a natural predisposition, a singular aptitude 
for the study of the languages. The flexibility 
•of their minds, the promptitude of their 
memories, render it easy for them to understand 
and to remember a multitude of terms, the rules 
and details of which we must fear sometimes, 
are too much for them. "I showed a decided taste 
for the languages," said Monsieur de Chateau- 
hriand; "the rudiments cost me but little to learn; 
I awaited the hour of my Latin lesson as a 



THE GREEK LANGUAGE. 113 

relaxation from my signs and figures in geome-- 
trj."^ 

If we wish now to examine the title upon 
which the Greek tongue relies for support as the 
source of the classical tongues, we shall have no 
less brilliant qualities to recognize in it. The 
following quotation from Rollin will show what, 
importance the savants of Europe have attached 
to the study of Greek. " I would wish," says 
RoUin, "that the eyes, the ears, the tongue, the 
memory, the mind, all combined, might lead 
young people to the knowledge of the Greek." 

"Every language revolves in gold," said an 
author.^ That is true, especially of the one of 
which we speak. Born in a country, the bright- 
est and richest, it had, from the commencement, 
those germs of beauty of which the develop- 
ments were extraordinary. Cultivated by 
the most illustrious writers, it received from 
each age new embellishments. Poets, orators, 
historians, philosophers even, all sought to out- 
vie each other to adore and glorify it by all the 

(1) Memoires d'outre-tombe. (2) Pensees de Jubert. 



114 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

pomp and magnificence tliat art and genius 
could bring. 

It does not enter into our plan to develop at 
this time these discoveries. It is sufiicient 
to recall the rights of the Latin and Greek lan- 
guages to the place accorded to them, after the 
mother tongue, in the study of the classics. 

III. 

After translation we have placed analysis, imi- 
tation and composition. It is easy to compre- 
hend the sovereign utility of each. By literary 
analysis, the scholar learns to discern, to judge, to 
taste the beauties diffused through the ancient 
and modern "chefs-d'oeuvre." He learns to 
esteem those great writers who have formed our 
beautiful French tongue, and who, inheriting the 
most beautiful models of antiquity, have de- 
tached from them the delicate, brilliant, and 
sweet flowers with which they have enamelled 
the field of our literature. He learns especially 
to stand aloof from that detestable romance 
v^hich involves every subject. He disdains those 
light productions from the substance, even to 



MODERN ROMANCE. 115 

the form, which removes every restraint, looking 
onlj for the most piquant news, and have no 
other merit than that of flattering the bad tastes 
of the age which produces them as also the passions 
of those who read them. When a young man 
draws from the analysis of modern classics a 
sincere admiration for great writers and a pro- 
found distaste for romance, he will not have lost 
his time, because, in his literary works the impres- 
sion is left, and is founded on a deeper basis 
than one thinks. The true, the good, the beau- 
tiful, are very intimately united. "For the per- 
fection of our literarj' work, we cannot attach 
too great importance to virtue. It is beauty of 
sentiment that makes beauty of style. When 
the soul is elevated, words fall from on high, 
and noble expressions always follow noble 
thoughts."^ 

Also, when literary purity changes in a 
notable manner, as we see in certain 
modern works so generally read, it is the 
spirit of the people, which is its strength, that is 
enfeebled and corrupted — this is a sign of moral 

(1) Chateaubriand, Melanges Litteraires. 



116 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

niin ! It is then, more than ever, that a solid 
christian education is powerful and necessary to 
reanimate little by little the condition of health- 
ful literature and make it shine in all its glory. 
This analysis of literary beauties admirably pre- 
pares the way for imitation; the name only 
is sufficient to reveal its utility. " She 
chooses, she imprints here the idea, there 
the turn, elsewhere only the taste. If some en- 
tire passage might appear to her a good prize, 
she carefully effaces the theft, and what she has 
thus appropriated without violence, she makes to 
appear as her own."^ 

"To imitate a writer," says Marmontel,"i8 not to 
translate his writings, or servilely copy them. It 
is, in the most restricted sense, to understand the 
thought and translate it with freedom ; it is, in 
the most extended sense, to form his mind, his 
language, his habits to conceive, to imagine, to 
compose upon a model with which one feels 
some analogy. Imitation in itself is only a for- 
warding towards composition. From her all the 
intellectual faculties commence their assent; 

(1) Patin, Melange, de Litteraire. 



LITERAKT STYLE. IIT 

tlie mind begins to fructify, the imagination to en- 
rich itself, in the attempt to acquire delicacy, 
grace, and judicious elegance. It is here that the 
scholar is to be initiated in the precious and diffi- 
cult art of writing well. Then, to write well, 
signifies to think well, to have good perceptions 
and power of expression ; it is to have at the 
same time intellect, soul and taste ; style supposes 
the reunion and the exercise of all the intellect- 
ual faculties. The style is the man. • 

Yes, it is especially by literary composition 
that the intelligent man forms himself, the art 
to describe, without fatiguing with useless de- 
tails, the art to narrate, in varying the narra- 
tion by an agreeable style, thus adroitly sustain- 
ing the interest ; finally, the art to persuade, in 
giving to a discourse all the force of tnith, at 
the same time all the prestige of elegant lan- 
guage. This is, without doubt, a beautiful and 
rich career. In the meantime, I have 
made no especial reference to poetry, a fruitful 
source, an inexhaustible source of all that ele- 
vates the mind, charms the heart, delighting 

(1) Buffon. 

8 



118 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

man by the sweetest pleasures, and awakening in 
him the bright sparks of genius. Poetry — 
daughter of heaven, soul of all inspirations in 
literature and art, who would not love it ? Who 
would not enjoy this pleasure by studying the 
"chefs-d'oeuvres" of the poets? 

Ordinarily, the proper time to gratify one's 
taste in this charming study, is during the time 
spent in the second class. "There is no period 
of life more poetic than in the fresh affections 
of a heart of sixteen years. The morning of life is 
like the morning of the day, full of purity, full 
of imagination and harmony."^ 

It is very evident that we speak here of that 
poetry which draws its impressions from the 
pure sources of truth and religion. "True 
poetry in its essence is chaste and pious; we 
speak now of its position ; for its natural place 
holds it raised above the earth, and brings it in 
contact with heaven. From there, like the im- 
mortal spirits, she sees the souls, the thoughts, 
and but little of the bodies."^ Then let ub 
quote the words of a poet who should have been 

(1) Chateaubriand, Renie. (2) Pensees de Joubert. 



POETRT. 119 

able to follow more faithfully the precepts he 
was giving : 

''Lyre, ilfaut de ces chants sublimes, 
Dont tons les echos sont au del ! " 

— Victor Hugo. 

Many imagine that the study of letters dimin- 
ishes the aptitude for that of the sciences. How 
many ilhistrions names could we produce here to 
prove the contrary ! These two species of study 
have for their object to develop, in a just man- 
ner, the intelligent man, and to place him where 
he can at the same time comprehend, discover, 
and taste the true and beautiful, wherever found. 

" It is not true that science is exacting and 
poetry is exclusive. The deep, cold thoughtful- 
ness that the sciences require from observation, 
should not make a man believe that he is per- 
fect, when he has extinguished within himself 
all the glow of imagination, or when he has 
quenched the sentiment of poetry."^ We will 
make in the meantime this observation : "Cer- 
tainly, poetry is beautiful, but it should not find 
place in business."^ It is not unusual to hear 

(1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des hommes, chap. 14. 

(2) Chateaubriand, ** Melanges Littiraires." 



120 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

the remark : Literary people are little qualified 
to manage business. 

" Strange thing, that the talent necessary 
to produce the spirit of the laws, is in- 
competent to conduct the bureau of a minister ! 
What ! those who so easily probe the depths of 
the human heart would not be capable of unrav- 
eling the intrigues of passion by which they are 
surrounded ! " N^othing could pursuade me that 
Bossuet had not a head capable to conduct a 
Kingdom, or that the judicious Boileau might 
not have made an excellent administrator. 
Judgement and good sense are the two qualities 
above all necessary to a statesman ; but let us 
observe these two traits must be controlled by a 
head whose intellect is healthfully organized."^ 

When one understands the real design of 
literary studies, which is to perfect the intellect 
and the language by the attentive consideration 
of the most beautiful passages of poetry, elo- 
quence, wisdom and genius; when one thinks 
to place a studious youth in the school of the 
poets of the greatest sublimity, of the most pro- 

(1) Chateaubriand, "MManges Litteraires. " 



PREMATURE MATHEMATICS. 121 

found philosophy, the wisest moralists, for any 
other purpose than to form and enrich the mind, 
to ornament the imagination, to ennoble the 
heart and give to the entire sonl a generons ad- 
vance towards what is beautifnl and good, it is 
very difficult to explain this kind of disgust to 
which the study of the classics, for the moment, 
appears to be subjected. 

IV. 

However, we are frank to avow that several 
things have contributed to throw upon these 
studies a lamentable discredit. For examj)le, it 
is evident to all men who reflect upon the sub- 
ject, that the system adopted in the larger part 
of our colleges is in no wise proper to develop 
the intellect of young people. First of all, it is 
because they tend to force, and in some sense to 
do violence, to the young and still weak mind. 
This difficulty arises principally in two ways : By 
the premature study of mathematics, and an ex- 
cessively prolonged time given to the study of 
history. 

It is easy to conceive that the premature study 
of mathematics is an intellectual restraint, often 



122 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

deplorable. In fact, let us observe the steps 
that the faculties of the child take in order to 
develop themselves. The first to appear is the 
memory, then the imagination reveals itself, 
finally the moral sensibilities. Nothing yields 
later fruit in childi*en than the study of purely 
abstract ideas such as, for example, one presented 
in the study of mathematics. In a word, reflec- 
tion with them is weak, the judgment has been 
little exercised, and to reason is found very diffi- 
cult. 

Yery well, take this child, and, in place of 
cultivating its mind in the way its budding 
faculties seem to direct or require, you throw 
it into mathematics, speak to him of that sub- 
ject morning and evening, all the time in fact, 
take away from him all that would please his 
young joyous imagination, all that would orna- 
ment his memory, cultivate his taste, and de- 
velop the sensibility of his heart, in giving to 
him the geometrical letters and figures : what 
will be the result ? You will make one 
more mathematician, perhaps ; but will you not 
have one man the less ? quel dommage ! to dwarf 



EXCESSIVE MATHEMATICS. 123 

thus, under these trifling algebraic formulas, a 
young intellect, capa]:>le, perhaps, to taste and 
produce beautiful and good things ! But, says 
one, mathematics teaches us to reason, and also 
helps to form our judgment. Yes,it may have that 
effect, but only when used with becoming tact 
and prudence, and adapted to the dispositions of 
those receiving instruction. You will be aston- 
ished, perhaps, to hear what Descartes says upon 
this subject : "• The study of mathematics ren- 
ders one unflt for the study of philosophy." 
But this astonishment ceases when we recall the 
sense in which Pascal ridicules the geometricians, 
who are nothing but geometricians, finding them 
"ridiculous, false, and insupportable." He is 
right; mathematics is useful, as a means of 
educating the intellect, only so far as it does not 
bury the young minds under a weight that for 
the present it is incapable to carry. Fenelon did 
not wish the Duke de Bourgoyne to apply him- 
self too closely to mathematics, for fear an indef- 
initely long period of time might be lost in vain 
researches, and he be made singular in his man- 
ners. Still, it is said, the times require haste. 



124 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

Schools are established especially to meet this 
exigency. Yes, very well ; but these exigencies 
are precisely the more to be regretted. The 
period of admission into these schools shonld be 
delayed until the intellect of the child can be 
sufficiently formed ; it is always a thing truly 
unfortunate to see adopted a system advancing 
the study of arithmetic before the appropriate 
time. It has been asserted, but without sufficient 
reason, that the science of figures, more than all 
others, gives the judgment that rectitude and 
solidity which it necessarily requires. It 
teaches the art to reason just in the order of the 
ideas in which it holds a part ; but when a place 
is given to it above its just claim in the process 
of education, it places the mind in a false posi- 
tion, in relation to ideas of an elevated order, and 
often incapacitates the mind for such application. 
It is evident, that so far as concerns the imagina- 
tion, taste, or moral sensibilities, the study of 
mathematics is singularly injurious. This result 
is easy to comprehend, for it seems to participate 
of the nature of which it expresses the principal 
laws, and like them is impenetrable, and ren- 



TOO MUCH HISTORY. 125 

ders inaccessable to all other objects the place it 
occupies; so mathematics often shut out from 
all other orders of ideas, the mind which makes 
this study its exclusive occupation. Permit us 
to quote here a very judicious remark that was 
made by M. de Chateaubriand, and apply it 
not only to mathematics, but equally to the 
physical and natural sciences, when they are not 
taught with discretion : " Independently of other 
dangers that follow the exclusive study of the 
sciences, it nourishes much more pride than the 
study. of letters." 

V. 

Another excess into which we have fallen, is 
the great length of time devoted to the study of 
history, at an age when the simple elements 
alone are sufficient. Here, let us not confound 
the means with the end. The study of history 
is only a means used for the education of the 
intellect. It is of but little importance to a 
young man to stupefy his mind in trying to re- 
tain a multitude of names, and dates, of every 
country and all times, if his only object is sim- 
ply to make himself peculiar with them. How 



126 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

many vonng men, after having received tlie 
degree of Bachelor of arts, have confessed that in 
this rapid and superficial study of history, they 
Jiave only found the memory wearied out with 
useless labor, which a few months have been 
sufficient almost entirely to efface ! 

In the meantime, what is to be done ? the 
programme is there, it ought to suffice, and how- 
■ever comprehensive the manual might be, one 
still frets that something is wanting. We are 
far from disputing the importance of historic 
studies, but it should not become an alfair sim- 
ply of the memory. We know it is necessary 
that history should be studied at an age when 
the memory is active and tractable. Riper age 
will make use of these memories collected in 
youth ; it will be a treasure acquii-ed easily, not 
only, but will produce a rich harvest at a more 
advanced period of life, when it will cost more 
effort to learn than to reflect. But if your object 
is to retain the facts, the mind should not be too 
crowded ; one must know how to choose, to fix 
in the mind and to reason upon these subjects, 
and not charge the programme in' such a man- 



HISTORY THE STUDY OF MAN. 127 

ner as to make it evidently impossible for young 
people to accomplish their tasks. History will 
not be made useful in its presentation of a mass 
of facts and dates only. Its greatest utility 
consists in placing before us a picture of 
human life, the history of man. Let 
us listen to Montaigne, who says to us, with that 
good sense for which he is distinguished, why 
he loves history. "It is,'' says he, ''because, man 
in general, whom I seek to know, appears there 
more life-like and entire than in any other 
place." He adds, in regard to the facts of his- 
tory and above all those of the lives of cele- 
brated men, somewhat detailed, which are those 
which engage his attention, and which he finds the 
most attractive and useful : " Those who write 
biography, and in proportion as they amuse 
themselves more with the counsels than the 
events, more with that which emanates from 
within, than that which happens from without, 
are those best adapted to my taste ; for this rea- 
son Plutarch's Lives are in every resj^ect ])est 
suited to me." 

Independent of the philosophical view of 



128 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

the knowledge of man, history, when it is 
thoroughly taught, may also be useful in the 
following relations : It seryes as a comple- 
ment to literary studies, in making known the 
spirit of nations and the epochs where the works 
of great men haye been composed, also the facts 
which haye called for these compositions. It 
also furnishes explanations of a great number of 
allusions one meets with in the writings of ora- 
tors, poets, and literary men,and contributes great- 
ly to a good understanding of monumental 
art. It presents the history of the deyelop- 
nients of the arts and sciences, the series and 
connection of discoyeries which haye been made 
in them. It giyes us a moral lesson by brand- 
ing crime and honoring yirtue, in unyeiling the 
vanity of the things of this world, of which she nar- 
rates the yicissitudes. Finally, it gives useful les- 
sons in politics, and it is of still greater service to 
social and philosophical sciences in exposing the 
facts upon which they establish their specula- 
tions. It results from all this that the study of 
history may present very strong claims to use- 
fulness, but only when taua'ht conformably to 



MORAL INKLUENCE OP' HISTORY. 129 

the spirit of education, which desires that all 
advancement be made progressively, with mod- 
eration, and in a seasonable manner. Its 
indispensable organ is literature, wliicli gives 
to recital clearness, charm and interest. It 
is important above all that a young man should 
acquire from history an acquaintance with the 
great deeds which connect themselves with re- 
ligion, and with those which compose the annals 
of this country. In this connection one can say 
that history contributes to the moral education 
by making known and cultivating love of re- 
ligion and country. It is in presenting these 
facts to thp minds of young people, that they 
are taught to draw, from the noblest examples, 
respect for law, attachment to authority, also a 
desire to be of service to their country, and fin- 
ally, to honor their names some day by their 
devotion and virtue. Truly such a study is very 
precious. 

At the same time it is through the ordinary 
course that he will bo able to collect with intel- 
ligence these ideas, facts, and narrations ; in a 
word, the elementary knowledge furnishes the 



130 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

young man with tlie true meaning of history. It 
will be time for him to be taught by patient inves- 
tigation, by scrupulous researches into the sources, 
in order to disenthral his mind from the preju- 
dices of passed histories, so as to arrive at an im- 
partial certainty with regard to the truth. One 
can comprehend what service may be rendered 
to a young man, at a moment when his thoughts 
are ripening, in occupying his mind, when his 
reflecting powers are in process of development, 
with those serious studies which they allow in his- 
tory to be truths, and w^hich is named the mis- 
tress of human life. 

VI. 

After all we have already said upon the edu- 
cation of the intellect, it is easy to conclude 
that the end proposed especially is the de- 
velopment of the faculties, in order to form 
the child. In that, as in all other parts of edu- 
cation, what one does is little, what one proposes 
to do is everything. For this reason we should 
advance with moderation, prudence, and wise 
deliberation. What will be gained by pre- 
cipitate effort ? You might force the proverb- 



RELIGION THE END OF STFDT.. 131 

ially rebelloiis intellect, and break it down. 
But you would not form it. In this way the 
child is inspired with disgust, because you desire 
to obtain from his intellect more than it can 
give. Many parents, in view of the future,, 
through desire to force their children to greater 
activity in their studies, have produced the most 
unfortunate results. "I know fathers," says Plu- 
tarch, "who are real enemies to their children.. 
So ambitious are they to see them make the 
most rapid progress and obtain in their studies an 
extraordinary superiority, that they surcharge 
them with work, the weight of which breaks 
them down. The result is a discouragement 
that renders the sciences odious to them. Plants, 
moderately watered, grow readily, while too 
much water drowns the germ ; so the soul noui'- 
ishes and fortifies itself by well directed in- 
dustry, the excess of which overcomes and ex- 
tinguishes the faculties." Pascal's father acted 
more wisely; his principle was always to hold 
the child superior to his work. 

The most important step in educating the in- 
tellect, is to place at the summit of instruction. 



132 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

the great and serious study of religion. For as 
there is nothing more indispensable to the happi- 
ness of this life, so nothing is more capable of 
elevating and ennobling the intellect. What is 
more, this religious instruction should not be 
confined only to certain hours, and entirely sep- 
arated from literary instruction. Children have 
been taught about Greece and Rome too exclu- 
sively. They return from their classical exile with 
the mind so filled with memories of these two peo- 
ples, they are like strangers to everything else. 
Are there then no other beauties to admire but 
those which are found in the harmonious lan- 
guage of the Pagans ? Without entering here 
into the great discussion of the abuse that has 
been made of this subject in one sense or an- 
other, and of a choice too exclusive, we will sim- 
ply say that, without disregarding the important 
place that the ancient classical and profane 
studies should occupy, we nmst not neglect to 
give a becoming place either to the study of 
ecclesiastical antiquities. The writings of the 
Latin and Greek fathers are filled by more than 
one species of beauty. Let one collect from 



EELIGIOUS WETTING. 133 

Tertullien, Cjprien, Lactance, Ambroise, Augus- 
tine, Jerome, etc., and one will see if there is 
not enough to be drawn from ecclesiastical an- 
tiquity to weave the most brilliant crown ! Also, 
let us examine the writings of Gregory, of Maz- 
ianzan, of Basil, of Chrysostome, and see if a 
thousand beauties of the first order will not ap- 
pear to the eyes of a man of impartial mind and 
taste ! But must we neglect the study of Pagan 
authors, even with the precaution that a Christian 
education prescribes ? 

That will appear difficult, if not impossible, 
when we think of the unanimous admiration 
they excite even up to the present time, and 
especially of the immense utility that the most 
distinguished men and greatest genuises of 
Christianity have drawn from them. That which 
is necessarily first of all, is to procure masters 
sincerely Christian. They will seize hold of the 
beautiful and the good wherever they may be 
found, be it even amongst the Pagans. And while 
an irreligious master would glance over per- 
fidious incredulity, even in translating the Bible, 
these religious masters will know, by their spirit 



13tt THE LNTELLIGENCE. 

of faith, liow to Christianize the most profane 
studies. The essential point is that a religious 
element in some degree ]3ervades the atmosphere 
of all instruction, indeed. 

Religious truths should have a place in 
everything. They form the array of light 
which shines at the same time in philosophy, 
history, science, letters, and art, and they 
alone find in everything the splendor of truth, 
and that sacred fire of love from which every 
good eminates. 

Alas ! Christianity is ill known to-day ; espec- 
ially is this true of men of letters ! It is 
giving instruction to the rising generation, that 
will restore the study of religion to the place of 
honor in the mind and heart. A child must know 
what religion is to love it. The more he knows of 
it, the more his heart will become inseparately 
attached to it. Let, then, this instruction be not 
only di fused over, but blended with all the rest, 
and even let it be made the object of a 
special course, superior to all others, and sur- 
rounded with all the religious dignity, with all 
the display, and with all the attention that such a 
great subject merits. 



THE CATHOLIC RELIGION. 135 

Maj this special instruction lastingly engrave 
in the memory of the child the mysteries of this 
doctrine, which has for the mind some obscuri- 
ties mingled with much that is clear and beauti- 
ful; the laws of their evangelical moral, which is 
a wholesome restraint, but sweet and light to 
carry; the rights and ceremonies of that wor- 
ship, which speaks so eloquently to the heart in 
addressing itself to the senses and imagination ; 
the history of this church, which has its obscuri- 
ties and aj)parent decadence,but which survives,se- 
rene and calm through all storms and revolutions. 
"For me," said an Angelican clergyman, after his 
conversion, "from the day I first entered the 
Eoman church, I found myself like a man who 
had shaken off the bands that had held him cap- 
tive from his youth. I felt for the first time the 
plenitude of my liberty giving life to the faculties 
of my soul, and I felt as an eagle that for the 
first time leaps from his serial nest, flying with 
assured wing through limitless space. In this 
manner, did my reason, elevated by free and un- 
wavering flight, contemplate with happiness that 
vast and harmonious religious system, which 



136 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

alone amongst all the religions of the earth, is 
what it ought to be — nothing more, nothing less. 

" I contemplated this imposing assemblage of 
doctrine and morality by which all is held, 
as by a chain surrounded by as immutable laws 
as those of gravity to the earth. The more I 
considered them, the more I was charmed and 
strengthened in my faith, and if I am enslaved, 
it is by the truth I am subjugated, and if I am 
fascinated, it is by the irresistible brilliancy of 
a beauty without spot."^ 

The young student should study to make 
himself so well acquainted with the princi- 
ples of Christianity, that henceforth he may 
neither amidst the distractions of the world nor 
in the vehemence of passion be able to forget 
them. 

This knowledge of religion should be suffi- 
ciently well grounded and intelligent to meet 
all arguments proposed to him by Pagans and 
those ignorant of its first principles, who are too 
numerous in the world, and who know little of 

(1) J. Moore Capes, of Oxford University, former pastor 
of St. John Baptist church, at Bridgewater. Four years 
experience in the Catholic religion. 



DISBELIEF FROM IGNORANCE. 137 

Christianity outside the name. It should be im- 
possible for him to be confounded by the paro- 
dies and burlesques to which religion is sub- 
jected, and which in our day disperses ignorance, 
passion, interest, and bad faith. 

The first cause of disbelief and doubt is 
ignorance. It is impossible to fathom the extent 
of religious ignorance, and there is not a man 
amongst us who does not believe that he himself 
is quite competent to judge of its principles. 
This decision is formed in college, ordinarily 
from the age of 13 to 15 years ; this same condi- 
tion of mind, with little or no change in char- 
acter, often continues through youth into riper 
years, not only, but not frequently until even to 
death ; who has not known a scholar in advanced 
years to declare his total disbelief ? "To whom 
is that student unknown, who, having arrived at 
the age of reason, did not declare frankly he had 
no longer any religious belief ? For him, mas- 
ters, parents, church and tradition, great men, 
great authors, and great ages, Bossuet and Fen- 
elon, Pascal and all the others, — all these are to 
him but a lie, foolish superstition and darkness. 



138 THE INTELLIGENCE. 

He knows what to believe, and to that he will 
adhere. That dull child is manifestly ridicu- 
lous, but we, who are men in the world, are we 
not perhaps like this child. This same decision 
forms in our blind and feeble infancy, under the 
influence of a detestable education, and the 
self-sufiicient spirit of the age. This same 
opinion continues to constitute the foundation 
of our actual judgment of Catholicity and Chris- 
tianity." ^ When in childhood solid instruction 
has established in the mind a religious basis, 
sooner or later it will produce its effect, and the 
deviations of doubt will leave still on the mind 
the remembrance of and regrets for those days 
of sincere faith. 

"Oh ! my friend ! writes a philosopher of his 
time, are we poor philosophers not unfortunate 
beings for whom the prolongation of life is but 
a trust, an ardent desire, a fervent prayer ! 
Would I had the faith of my mother ! To rea- 
son is to doubt, and to doubt is to suffer. Faith 
is a species of miracle. When it is strong, when 

(1) Le Pere Gratey, lettre a Monsieur Vaeherot. 



PHILOSOPHY. 13^' 

it is sincere, it gives nanglit but happiness ! 
How often in my studies have I not raised my 
eyes to heaven and asked God to reveal to me, 
and above all to give to me immortality."^ 

The stndy of philosophy is the eom^^letion of 
all other studies, and serves greatly to educate 
the intellect, but this instruction has become so 
unnatural that when it is not absolutely injuri- 
ous, it is at best useless and tiresome. In the 
meantime, what interest the study of men pre- 
sents to us, whether we consider the man himself, 
either in his connection with God, with his- 
neighbor, or finally with all created beings ! 
For such is the object of philosophy. This 
study is so much more important, because in its 
intelligent researches she finds the means to de- 
lineate the foundations of religious faith. A 
powerful testimonial, but not an expositor of the 
truth. True philosophy would lead a young 
man to support himself upon the foundations of 
faith, as these direct him to repose upon divine 
authority. 

(1) Letter of Santa-Rosa, quoted by Mon. Cousin. 



140 THE IJSTELLIGENCE. 

" The best use we can make of our mind," 
Malebremche says, " is to acquire the knowledge 
of the truths we believe by faith, and so of all 
that serves to confirm them. I could then never 
believe that true philosophy is opposed to faith, 
neither that good philosophers can have different 
sentiments from true christians." And that 
comes from the fact that the truth which natur- 
ally enlightens our minds, cannot be in opposi- 
tion to the truth it has pleased God to reveal to 
us. " The true and essential reason, " says Mon- 
taigne," by which we deprive false instruction of 
the name of faith is lodged in the breast of 
God, for that is the home of faith and its retreat ; 
it is from thence it takes its leave, when it pleases 
God to dispense some of its rays upon us."^ 

But if one's only object is to give to such in- 
struction to study the faculties of the soul, 
with the dry classifications, and the vain suscep- 
tibilities of metaphysical sterility, might not 
one say with Pascal, that such a philosophy is 
not worth one hour's study ? JS'or should we 
neglect the manner of this instruction, so beau- 

(1) Essais, liv. ii, ch. 161. 



RELIGION THE CENTRAL TRUTH. 141 

tif ul in itself, nor deprive it of all literary charm 
to such a degree as absolutely to deprive it of all 
attraction. " Let us not forget that philosophy 
has a muse, and is not simply an official in 
argumentation." ^ 

To conclude, religion should retain the same 
place in relation to mental culture that the sun 
holds to the world's svstem. Her lio-ht and 
warmth should be diffused through all knowl- 
edge, and permeate every branch of instruction. 

(2) Joubert. 



CHAPTEE YI. 

EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. 

From the heart proceeds life. — (Prov. 4th, 23.) 
This word, profound as are all those which God 
inspires, shows ns well why the language of peo- 
ples, designates by the same word this organ of 
the body. It diffuses blood through every mem- 
ber, and communicates life thereto. This faculty 
of the soul is the seat of the sentiments, but 
more especially that of love. 

It is the blood that makes the material heart 
to beat, it is love also that makes the moral heart 
leap with joy ; and when the soul is filled with 
that noble and pure sentiment, the organ of life 
beats stronger, and palpitates with emotion. 

The qualities of the heart being the most pre- 
cious, and possessing the greatest influence over 
our existence, we necessariallv esteem it above 



HEART-INSTINCT. 143 

all else. When we say of a child, he has a good 
heart, we bestow upon him the highest praise.. 
We appreciate a worthy man who devotes him- 
self to truth and virtue, and we call him a man of 
heart. It gives us pleasure to acknowledge " that 
the greatest thoughts come from the heart." ^ 

" The same with truth," says M. de Maistre,. 
"that man cannot seize hold of but with the 
intelligence of the heart. Mente cordis sui." 
Such is the importance of this truth, that all 
moral life, all wisdom, all philosophic truth,, 
come from the heart, and that God has made a 
resume of all our duties in this one word :. 
'' Vous aimerez^^^ Diliges ! 

This being the fact nothing is of more impor- 
tance, than the education of the heart, and 
particularly in our day, when nothing is more- 
neglected. 

One seems to reserve all care and all solici- 
tude for the instruction of the mind, in order to 
accelerate and extend that instruction, and above- 
all to fill it with diversified varieties ; but 
who occupy themselves with the cultivatioil of 

(1) Yauven argues. 



144 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

the heart, in those institutions of learning where 
religion does not preside ? 

Sometimes one sees amongst chihlren little 
prodigies of memory, and even of mind. They 
]$:now fables ; they make analysis ; they converse 
agreeably in society, and make use of terms that 
are pleasing. In a few years when they will have 
been rubbed up with Greek and Latin, and will 
know a smattering of history and mathematics ; 
you will hear them eloquently vociferate their 
little erudition. 

But let us suppose that they are as learned as 
they strive to be brilliant, will that make them 
happy ? or will they increase the happiness of 
those by whom they are surrounded ? and above 
all will they be good ? or will they be pure and 
virtuous ? and under the most gracious appear- 
ance, do they not bear about with them the most 
pernicious germs for future development ? You 
will see them from time to time practising the 
principle duties religion prescribes ; but have 
they imbibed the true sentiment of religion in 
their early infancy ? has piety, a sincere, gener- 
ous, well-difPused piety filled their hearts ? 



HOW REACH THE HEART? 145 

In the heart is found the fundamental element 
of the man and of the christian ; it is the 
source of all moral good ; because in the heart 
is found the source of love. Children are by 
no means mere machines whose wheels and 
springs are worked by artificial power. 

Endowed with freedom, they do only that 
which they desire to do ; they do not wish any- 
thing they do not love ; In fact, they come ta 
practise love, duties, virtues, efforts and sacri- 
fices, only through the language of love and per- 
suasion. To cultivate the heart of a child, then,, 
is to teach him to love ! Sublime instruction ! 
which should maintain a controlling influence 
through life ! 

But by what means shall we read the heart 
that we may form it ? Shall it be by way of 
authority and the sterility of command that we 
shall speak to him and persuade him ? Will it 
suffice for this education of the heart, to unfold 
by fore-thought and regulation, by stratagems of 
surveillance, by severity in discipline and other 
resources of an ingenious mind or an energetic 
character ? With all this apparent discipline one 



146 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

will come to establish an exterior order, more 
or less perfect, but has the heart been 
regulated ? Is it that this amiable faculty 
is to be fashioned and directed by material 
force? 'No, the heart with its "penchants," the 
will with its free determinations, piety with 
its delicate and secret influence, are not things 
to regulate, fashion, or direct themselves, by 
wary rules, or by punishments in some official 
relations. 

I see the body where is the soul ? Where is 
the principle of life ? I see an administration, 
a well arranged civil policy ; where is the educa- 
tion of the heart ? I see an active, and perhaps 
dilligent official ; where is the father, where is 
he? 

I am going to say : he is in the religion 
and above all is he in the Priest ! and why ? 
because a priest knows how to love childhood ! 
His is the secret, his the watchfulness, his 
the discipline, behold his marvelous art ; he 
loves a child not for himself, but for the child, 
for society, for the future, for heaven. It is this 
love that is the principle of divine light, as of 
•every generous impulse. 



147 

It is a long time since, that a sublime moral- 
ist, St. Augustine, upon a question of duties 
made this famous answer, which is the great 
rule of the priest used in educating the heart of 
a child : 

" Love," says he, " love fii'st of all ; then do 
what you please : ama, et fac quod vis." This is 
the device of a priest, when he fills the role of 
teacher. If he does not know how to love a 
child, and devote himself with the most entire 
disinterestedness to his education, he would not 
know^ how to cultivate his heart. In this diffi- 
cult work, the most devoted love should be the 
best guide, " Le maitre du maitre lui-meme ! " 

One governed by love, is above all others 
skillful to discern character, to choose means, 
and to invent resources unknown to others. 

" To love, is to see," continues St. Augustine, 
'' amare videre est, it is the science of the 
heart." 

It is not sufficient for a priest to be exempt 
from the narrow views of a mercantile mind, 
neither to bring to the work the principles of 
conscientious justice, which would lead him 



148 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

coolly to calculate what he owes to the child 
and to its family. 

He would still be a poor educator of youth if 
he limited himself to the incomplete and sterile 
views, which represent to him his situation as a 
noble task to which it is sufficient to bring the 
qualities of a skilful, and honest administrator. 

He desires something better than that ; animat- 
ed with divine charity, he loves infancy ; so dear 
to the heart of Jesus Christ, he devotes himself 
to it ; he feels within him the most ardent desire 
for the good, honor and happiness of his pupils ; 
and he brings, with all his soul, not only what is 
required to cover his responsibilities, and estab- 
lish perhaps his reputation, but every means 
which can really form, ennoble, ameliorate, and 
embellish the hearts of the children confided to 
his fatherly care. In this manner we can 
readily see how one heart may fashion another. 

The entire life of man in infancy is as 

the fruit is to the flower. Without doubt, every 

• flower does not bear fruit ; it may dry up and 

perish ; the rain and storm may crush it to 

the earth. Still it is also true to say, that without 



HOW ACCOMPLISHED. 149 

flowers you will have no fruit, and that is al- 
ways the richest year bearing fruit that is pre- 
ceded by a beautiful Spring. 

For this reason religion cultivates with so 
mucli care these lovely flowers: Children, 
who are the men of the future. The lieart 
of the child will be for the family to which 
it belongs, or for society itself, a fruitful 
source of good or evil, the result of wliich will 
depend upon the religious education he has re- 
ceived in his youth. Now then, this education, 
this christian formation of the heart, vrliere 
shall it be accomplished ? or who will pursue 
this purpose with love and zeal 'i 

If the family be profoundly christian ; if the 

child from his cradle is surrounded by pious 

examples, without doubt he could be brought 

up wdth much less effort under the eyes of his 

father and mother, and in the midst of his 

brothers and sisters, in respect to religion, to 

love of virtue, and the practice of piety : for 

the air he breathes there, so to speak, would give 

moral and religious life to his heart. But where 

to-day are the families that can be said to be 
10 



150 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

highly and profoundly religious 1 have they not 
become very rare ? Where are the parents, who 
interest themselves exclusively in educating the 
hearts of their children? 

Must not the priest strive to give to children 
that of winch they are deprived in the fathers 
house ? This he will accomplish above all 
through the catechism, which will become 
for him another domestic hearth, where truth 
and virtue will develop themselves, in his soul, 
under the sweetest influence. It is in the knowl- 
edge of the catechism the child will And a pro- 
tecting asylum for his faith and his innocence, 
as also a holy cradle, where he will be born again 
to a new life ; there, religion like, a mother will 
welcome him with tenderness, to him she will 
open her arms and her breast, she will indeed 
elevate him by offering to his intellect and to 
his soul the truths of a hidden love, will accus- 
tom him to prayer, will present to him the ad- 
mirable revelations of God and heaven, of virtue 
and its recomj)ense, of evil and its chastisements, 
of Jesus Christ and of redemption, will disclose 
to him the end and aim of life, will make mani- 



THE CATECHISM. ^ 151 

fest the future to him and the route which con- 
ducts him there, and will linally initiate him 
into a christian life on that transcendent day of 
his first communion, when Jesus Christ him- 
self will come to take possession of his heart. 
It is evident in order to arrive at such great re- 
sults, the catechism must not l^e taught after the 
manner of ordinary dull instruction, simply as a 
religious lesson ; but should he made a great, 
pious, christian institution where the children of 
God are to be fashioned and brought up. 

The literal explanation of the catechism will 
only enter into the great object as one of its ele- 
ments, but that does not comprehend all, because 
education and family are not cold unmeaning 
words, a course in which the student only applies 
himself in order to satisfy the exactions of a pro- 
gramme. In the family one does not only teach, 
but much more it forwarns and admonishes, en- 
courages, re|)rimands sweetly, recompenses, loves, 
and causes virtue to be loved ! and over all that 
Tesprit de famille presides. That is to say, the 
authority, the devotion of one part in all its 
different requirements, with all its shares of ten- 



152 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET, 

derness and zeal ; and from the other, respect, 
docility, unlimited conhdence, as", also filial love 
and gratitude. These are the lessons the 
catechism gives to those who desire to 
educate the heart. Who does not know the 
immense good done in Paris through the 
work of the catechism, which was first founded 
at St. Sulpice, b}^ Monseur Oilier, then estab- 
lished in the other parishes, from whence it spread 
all through France and into many other countries, 
with the admirable method followed by the 
scholars in the seminary of Paris for the in- 
struction and religious education of youth. 
Tlie good accomplished in Paris alone, even, by 
the catechism is already incalculable ; not to 
speak of the good done in many countries by 
the Priests, educated in the school of St. Sul- 
spice. If I myself have left one useful trace of 
my ministry in St. Petersburg, and if I have 
done some good in Moscow, I must say it is owing 
to the fact of my devoted instruction to infancy 
and youth; above all in establishing the catechism 
after the manner of St. Sulspice, during those 



SELF-ESTEEM. 153 

years spent in the seminary, and in which are 
our happiest memories centered. 
II. 

Let us study the education of the heart in an- 
other sense, and following it in its consecutive 
progress, try to become acquainted with its move- 
ments. 

First of all the child is in love with himself. 
It is very natural that he commences at this 
point, for in his egotism there is something 
legitimate which is the instinctive sentiment 
of self-preservation ; but when pushed too far, or 
imprudently satisfied, this sentiment may cease to 
be the simple movement of the helpless to seek 
support, and degenerate into complete and tyran- 
nical self-esteem. This should be avoided with 
the greatest care, in explaining to the child as 
early as possible how we must seek assistance 
from others, and how we are obliged to do for 
them all we expect them to do for us, and above 
all in teaching him how noble and sweet it is to 
love those from whom he receives his benefits. 

Guided by these counsels from education, the 
heart of the child is naturally turned towards those 



154 EDUCATION OF THE PIEAET. 

who have given him his birth, and who lavish 
their tenderest care upon him. Soon he will 
recognize the fact, that without his parents 
the gift of life wonld prove useless to him. 
"I should have been as if I had not been, car- 
ried from the womb to the grave." Fuissem 
quasi non essem^ de utero translatus ad tuinu- 
luiii, — Job, 10, 19. Thus it will be a pleasure 
for him to resjDect and cherish his father as the 
representative of the tender and Urm authority 
of God, and his mother who is the visible organ 
of Providence in her vigilant and indefatigable 
love. 

How admirable this iilial devotion is from chil- 
dren well raised ! Kow, for the one that is not 
already blase by foolish caressing, how sweet that 
paternal kiss is which descends upon the fore- 
head like dew from heaven ! With what re- 
spectful and tender emotions a good son presses 
the hand of his mother ; that mother who gave 
him his first care, and who every day is inter- 
ested in removing every obstacle from his path : 
nothing is more legitimate, nothing better 
founded than this impulse of love in the heart 



FAMILY AFFECTION. 155 

of a child towards his father and his mother. 

That is not a high-born soul which is not dis- 
posed to feel the strength of these sacred ties, 
from wlience flows the obligation, the respect to 
love devotedly, accompanied with the most 
amiable manifestations. At the same time the 
heart of the child must be educated in the 
accomplishment of these affectionate duties. 

Parents will understand also that before them 
and above them, God is the father of their 
children, whom they have received as a sacred 
deposit confided to their tenderness, and 
that although they are honored thereb}' still 
their obligations are greatly augmented. 

Surrounding him the child sees his brothers 
and his sisters who are intimately united to him. 
The same womb that has carried him has carried 
them; they are like the budding flowers upon 
the same branch, and which have lived upon the 
same nourishment. What happiness it is for 
him to love them as friends given to him by 
nature ! For this reason his heart will com- 
mence little by little to dilate in a circle which 
will always increase in magnitude. He will 



156 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

come in contact from liis infancy with young 
companions, amongst whom he will find some 
more particularly worthy of his affections. 
These will be brothers, not given by nature but 
chosen through the sentiment of esteem and ten- 
derness, which is friendship. Koble sentiments, 
to which the heart of a pure child can lend him- 
self with the reserve that the wise and pious 
voice of the director ot his conscience will indi- 
cate ! He will comprehend already that at any 
age a virtuous friendship is the charm of life. 
The following is what Pere Lacordaire writes 
upon the subject : '' It is nothing wrong, my 
child, to love some one of your comrades more 
than another, when that affection is confined 
witliin the limits of a sincere and pure senti- 
ment. When one of your companions offers his 
friendship to you and asks for yours in return, 
you should endeavor to know his character, and 
not attach yourself to him only as being of ex- 
terior advantage. If he l)ear a character solidly 
and virtuousl}^ disposed, while in other regards 
you feel drawn towards him by an honest sym- 
pathy, nothing need j)revent your responding 



EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 157 

to his friendship. But in this case you should 
be faithful to your engagement and take care 
not to fly from one object of affection to another, 
which indicates a light mind incapable of serious 
sentiment/ 

The child that feels himself generously loved 
by his masters, will not fail to give a respectful 
and tender love to them in return. He will feel 
that as they are associated with the paternal func- 
tions, so do they share in tlie responsibilities and 
learn to assume the same sentiments. Later when 
advanced in life, he looks back to the college 
where he was raised, he will remember the com- 
panions of his youth, and his college masters ; he 
will feel awakened within him, more lively than 
ever, those rememl:)rances, ^''ceMe inemoire dii 
coeurr 

"Our infancy," says Monsieur de Chateau- 
briand, "leaves something of itself in the places 
adorned by it, as a flower comnninicates its 
perfume to the object with which it comes in 
contact. To-day I even find my heart touched 
when thinking of the dispersion of my young 

(1) Letters a des jeunues gens. 



158 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. 

school companions and the masters who first in- 
structed me."^ 

The object of so much care, snrronnded by 
those who give their whole attention to him, 
who love him and devote themselves to his edu- 
cation, the child commences to reflect, and 
yields to the friendly religions voice which 
gives to him instruction in piety from which 
he will readily raise his heart to Him who is the 
original source of all the benefits he has ever 
received. So many and divers benefactions 
will be as aliment to the active flame and with 
his whole heart, he will be transported towards 
heaven by an impulse of piety so easily in- 
spired in a child and so precious when it is well 
directed. 

The divine love, that is to say the greatest and 
most amiable love that can exist, commences to 
inspire the child's heart w4th a new and holy 
ardor. 

A piety that is about to raise and ennoble that 
soul ! to purify its inclinations ! and desires to 

(1) Memoirs d'outre tombe. 



A PIOUS ATMOSPHERE. 169' 

direct that heart towards all that is worthy to 
fix its purpose ! 

"Is not religion," says Monseigneur le Bishop 
of Orleans, "in profound harmony with all noble 
powers, and with all good faculties of the human 
soul ? Light of intelligence for the mind, flame 
of life for the heart, encouraging and formidable 
power for the conscience, an immutable law for 
morals, a sweet and firm authority for the char- 
acter, grace and succor to virtue : who is able 
to comprehend all that it is capable of doing to* 
develop the faculties ? You may drive religion 
far away from youth, but it would be madness !'' 

On the contrary, he should live in an atmos- 
phere of piety; that his mind, that his heart, that 
his senses even, if that were possible, and that all 
his being as it were, should be impregnated 
with piety, above all during the critical period 
of youth. 

III. 

It is at this epoch principally that the chris- 
tian child requires his heart to be filled with a 
broad profound affection and love for Jesus 
Christ. This noble, powerful, sweet love, will 



160 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

•concentrate his moral life, and will prevent it 
from being scattered amongst a thousand frivol- 
ous and dangerous objects. The world and its 
voluptuousness will lose all their prestige in 
presence of this inexhaustible source of joy and 
peace. There only will he hnd the true end of 
his being and repose to his heart. The extent 
•of his desires will be sufficient to make him com- 
prehend that " man having received but one 
end which is God, this vocation has necessarily 
•dug an abyss within himself, that God only can 
fill. In vain nature throws into it her immen- 
:sity ; at most it only causes the delusion of a stone 
falling into a gulf ; the gulf receives it ; it falls 
and remains.'-^ 

From whence comes this vacuity, this discon- 
tent, this state of dark melancholy which tor- 
ments so many y«3ung souls l^rought up far away 
from the tranquillizing sources of truth and 
;grace ? Wandering in the secrets of solitude, or 
in the public thorouglifares of large cities, the 
young man finds himself oppressed l)y aspirations 

(1) Le Reverend Pere Lacordaire, 60 Coaferance annee, 
1850. 



GOD NECESSAEY. 16t 

witliout end ; lie shuns the realities of life as he- 
would a prison, where his heart is smothered, and 
he supplicates everything which is vague and 
uncertain, the darkness of night, the winds- 
of autumn, the falling leaves of the wood, some- 
influence that might fill his breaking heart.. 
But all in vain ; the clouds pass, the wind ceases ta 
blow^, the leaves become discolored and dry up, 
without telling him why he suffers, without say- 
ing it is so much better for his soul to suffer than 
to receive the tears of a mother or the tender- 
ness of a sister." 

It is the supreme good, the infinite, it is God 
that is necessary to that soul. When divine- 
love purifies it and makes it to live, you will see 
how the face is set eastward with all its sails. 
well trimmed. The child existence will have 
an end ; he will act for one whom he loves ; all 
his desires, all his thoughts, all his hopes will 
draw towards God by an impulse of love. What 
a powerful motive to carry him on to all that is. 
great and generous ! and at the same time what 

(1) Le Rev'd Pere Lacordaire, 60 conferauce, annee. 
1850. 



162 EDUCATION OF THE HEAKT. 

a divine cliarm to extinguish the lire of budding 
passion ! what sweet joys, what holy pleasures 
for a young soul which is just opening into life ! 
The heart of the child is frivolous perhaps, 
he has wings that will mislead him ; but thanks 
to piety they will be made to serve him in his 
course, his natural levity of mind will lead him 
on to good and facilitate his rapid and courageous 
flight. 

His intelligence even will increase in pene- 
tration, in perspicuity and in extent. A pure 
heart gives to ideas more clearness and life, and 
to pictures of imagination it gives also a graceful 
and innocent reflection. It is not only the body 
that feels this salutary influence ; the look is 
fllled with transparent truth ; the features of the 
face are lighted up with a sincere smile ; all the 
movements and all the attitudes of the body 
have something noble, happy and assured, which 
recalls to mind the words of the Evangelist : 
^' Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall 
;see God." 

Here let us listen to Monsieur de Lamartine : 
"The eminently religious education that one re- 



LAMARTINE. 163 

ceives from the Jesuits, the frequent prayers, 
the meditations, the sacraments, pious ceremo- 
nies repeated and 23rolonged, rendered more at- 
tractive by the ornaments upon the altar ; the 
magniiicence of the costumes ; the chant, the in- 
cense, the flowers, tlie music, exert ujDon our 
hearts the most lively and salutary impression. 
TJie ecclesiastics who lavish them upon us, are 
the hrst to aljandon tJiemselves to their influence 
wdth all the sincerity and fervor of their faith. 
I resisted sometime this influence, still laboring 
under the impressions, prejudices, and antipa- 
thies that my sojourn in the college of Lyons 
had left on my mind against my first masters. 
But the sweetness, the tenderness of soul, and 
the insinuating persuasiveness of a more healthful 
regime under my new masters with all the 
power of their instruction, did not fail to have 
its effect upon my young imagination of fifteen 
years. 

"Invariably under their religion I found 
again the early piety of my youth, that I drank 
in with my mothers milk, in my newly found 
piety. I found also, calmness and tranquillity of 



164 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

mind, order and regulation in my soul, taste for 
study, the perception of my duties, the impres- 
sions of communion with God, the deliglits of 
meditation and prayer, the love of interior 
recollection and those ecstasies in adoration in 
the presence of God, to which nothing can be 
compared upon earth. 

Who has not experienced something of the 
same feelings, if he has passed in innocence and 
piety his infantile days, when the impressions 
and memories made upon the heart can not be 
effaced. 

" Could I live a thousand years," says M. de 
Lamartine, " I should not be able to forget cer- 
tain hours of the evening when, releasing myself 
from the pupils playing in the courtyard, I en- 
tered through a small private door into the 
church, when the shades of night already began 
to appear, and dimly lighted by a lamp suspend- 
ed closely to tlie front of the altar in the sanctu- 
ary. Then, having enveloped myself in my 
cloak, wraj^ped about me like a winding sheet, I 
concealed myself in the deep shadow of a pillar, 
supporting my head against the cold marble of 



LAMARTIXE AXD PASCAL. 165 

the balustrade, during an indefinite lapse of 
time plunged in mute but inexhaustible adoration. 
I no longer felt the sustained jDOsition on my 
knees or the earth under my feet, so completely 
was I lost in God." 

"Quand j 'ai franchi le seuil du temple sombre, 

* * -H- * * 

Je sens que dans ce vide une oreille m' ecotite, 
Qu 'un invisible ami dans la nef repandu 
M' attire a lui, me parle un laugage entendu, 
Se communique a moi dans un silence intime, 
Et dans son vaste seiu m' enveloppe et m' abime." 

— Lamartine. 

In these touching and religious words Lamar- 
tine only justifies the words of Pascal,' in sjDcak- 
ing of faith and that may be applied to grace : 
^' It is God sensibly felt in the heart," a mysteri- 
ous and divine influence, that one comes to 
know only by experience ! 

"Do not imagine to youi'seK anything diffi- 
cult or sad in the holy violence by which God 
draws us to himself. Here nothing but sweet- 
ness is found, and nothing but what gives pleas- 
ure : and it is the pleasure itself that attracts 
us." ^ 

All that flatters the sense in a forbidden 

(1) Saint Augustine. Sermon 131. 
11 



166 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

pleasure is a fatal charm, a loving secret which 
solicits and leads ns on. Yery well, grace is the 
counterpart of that wicked "penchant," placed 
in the balance of our free will, and aids us to 
break the inclination we have to evil. Through 
the spirit we see the good, and through the 
passions we taste the bad. Grace joined to 
reason attracts the taste to the pleasure of good. 
This is the secret of the power and joy which 
flow from piety. "Man is delivered over to evil 
by his concupiscence," says Leibnitz. The pleas- 
ure he finds there is in the hook by which he 
permits himself to be drawn : grace produces a 
greater pleasure,as Saint Augustine has said. "All 
pleasure is sentiment of some perfection, either 
real or apparent : an object is loved according 
as its qualities are appreciated : now then, noth- 
ing can surpass the divine perfections ; from 
whence it follows that charity and the love of 
God give the greatest pleasure one can conceive 
of, according as one is penetrated by grace — 
with these sentiments, which are not felt by 
ordinary men, because they are occupied and 
filled by the objects of their passion." Is it not 



THE SACRAIVIENTS. 167 

evident that piety thus understood is the most 
powerful element in the education of the heart ? 

lY. 

One will comprehend better still how the 
christian religion admirably seconds the moral 
formation of the man, if one considers how the 
sacraments, which are the sources of divine 
grace, have been disj^osed along the route of this 
life in order to adopt and facilitate the work of 
education to every age. 

Baptism is the door through which the child 
is introduced into christian society ; it purifies 
his soul and leaves there a leaven of grace 
which will prove an invisible assistance in a 
moral and religious education. 

The second age, or that of early youth, brings 
with it the fierce passions that already demand 
an energetic exercise of the will. Most critical 
epoch for innocence ! the barrier is removed, the 
combat is about to commence, and the child is not 
invulnerable. At this solemn moment religion 
intervenes the second time by two sacraments 
which then may be often received ; the one is 



168 EDUCATION OF TIIK TIKAKT. 

applied as a vulneraire or restorative, and tlie 
otlier as a cordial to the soul : these sacraments 
are confession, and the Holy Eucharist. But 
conflicts multiply and become more dangerous : 
then the young christian athlete is presented 
^Yith the unction of the strong, Avhich comes to 
confirm him in his faith, not only, hut to in- 
crease his strength and courage. 

Finally the ripe age of man has arriv^ed, the 
social age when life turns its face towards the 
east, so to speak, and remains fixed. Now the holy 
sacrament of marriage comes to bless the union of 
man and wife by whom christian society is to 
be perpetuated ; Holy Orders consecrate the 
Priest, who is sent to sustain, befriend, and 
console all to whom he should be able without 
reserve to olfer himself in the fulness of his 
love and charity. Finally, when life approaches 
its end, religion comes once again to touch the 
senses of the faithful in purifying the soul, in 
order to consecrate it for the last time to heaven. 

An admirable economy that, by which an 
efiicacious and sanctifying influence comes to 
aid us to pass through our secular and religious 



DANGERS. 109 

education on towards perfect and etei'iial liap- 
piness hereafter. 

Deprived of tlie indispensable succors of 
christian piety, are not young people at tlie 
period when the passions are in their incipient 
stage under a necessity more or less to seek the 
frivolities of the world and its guilty excesses ? 
What aliment must be produced to satisfy the 
cravings of their nature ? what to nourish their 
hearts? And in tliis penalty of pure and holy 
affection, where will the ardent soul stray '^ 

The discipline of a college all too weak at 
best to repress extreme disorders, what does it 
become in the presence of an agitated everves- 
ing heart ? for the heart can not be im])risoned. 

Where are the steps of this child leading him 
to ? Into what disorder is not his life already 
thrown ? When he commences to reflect, and 
when he asks himself what do I love, or at least 
what should I love, what is his answer ? Alas ! 
how cold is that young soul ! His thoughts and 
his affections are not turned towards heaven, but 
bending under the w^eight of material desires, 
and as one sees bowed to the earth the ])ranches 



170 EDUCATION OF THE. HEART. 

of a plant, so is he turned to ice by an untimely 
frost ! 

Poor child ! He is more unfortunate than 
guilty ! Just having taken leave of his family 
he arrives at college in all the freshness of his 
soul and the innocent ardor of his early years ; 
his greatest pleasure would be to yield himself 
willingly to the sweet influences of piety; a 
friendly and pious voice might have found a 
faithful echo in that heart still pure ! Grace 
once admitted might And then such easy access ! 
The love of goodness and virtue, might have been 
so generously and gratefully watered ! On the 
contrary behold him devoured by a burning 
thirst, and by hunger augmented every day by 
a corrupt and insufficient aliment. His heart 
withers, his noble aspirations have disappeared, 
and he is exhausted before he has begun to develop 
himself ; his bad companions flatter his j)erverse 
inclinations which love of good would have re- 
formed, and soon all his early predispositions for 
virtue and ipietj are dried up and die like a 
flower too long deprived of air and moisture. 

The saddest of all still is that with increase of 



INNOCENCE. 171 

years his evil propensities will also increase, and 
the claims of his passions become more absolute ; 
he will consume out his life more and more, by 
the love of dangerous pleasures, which only 
serve to corrupt and enervate him. Then if he 
iinds himself during his vacations, for example, 
menaced by some great danger, on some seduct- 
ive occasion, what happens to him ? It is easy 
to foresee. Oh ! why has not some one encircled 
that young soul by the sweet and powerful ties 
which the love of God, and piety possess ? This 
child would have been able by that means to es- 
cape the contagion of vice and pernicious 
examples. He would not be at this hour the 
slave of passions that wither his life before it has 
been entirely expanded even, and which perhaps 
will not long delay to jDroduce premature old age. 

"A child without innocence," said Chateau- 
briand, "is like a flower without perfume." 
Le Pere Lacordaire tells us how that flower still 
loses little by little, under the influence of vice, 
all its eclat and all its beauty. Let us listen to 
the illustrious orator while he addresses himself 
to young men : 

'' You have received from the "Creator a face 



172 EDUCATIOX OF THE HEART. 

where strength and goodness repose. Your lips 
are animated by a smile, whose grace snrvives 
their movement ; your eyes emit a brightness 
which springs from the dej^ths of a sprightly 
intelligence, but which, tempered with modesty, 
produces respect unmingled with fear; your 
forehead pure and calm serenely crowns the liv- 
ing magic of your countenance, and whoever 
looks upon your face, must bestow upon it admi- 
ration and love. 

"Oh, young man, these are great gifts! But one 
hour is sufficient to tarnish them; one fault only 
is enough to dishonor them. Xature, of which you 
are the chef-d'oeuvre, will not resist the attacks 
you make upon it in the secret of your con- 
science, and in proportion to the abandonment 
of the soul by God, so will its beauty take flight!" 

These remarkable words are founded u2)on the 
principle that true beauty comes from within; it 
consists less in regular features, which signify but 
little in themselves, than in the animated expres- 
sion of the face; the exterior reflection of that 
light which enlightens the intelligence; and from 
that jDure and holy flame which warms the 



PIETY. 173 

heart. Is not each one of the traits possessed by 
a virtuous young man like the Ijlossoniing of a 
noble thought or a generous affection^^ An 
exterior charm more precious than the others and 
which are always easy to preserve through the 
habits of which they are the principle ! 

Oh ! what happiness a Christian education 
brings to a young man, in whom all the gifts of 
God abound. In cultivating them, lie is made 
to taste all the pleasures to be found under the 
easy yoke of piety I and how these practices which 
seem so arid and heavy to one who does not know 
them, become sweet and light to him who 
embraces them at an early hour! He comprehends 
the truth of that council of the Holy Spirit 
which are so beautifully aj^plied to piety: "Give 
ear, my son, and take wise counsel, and cast not 
away my advice. 

"Put thy feet into her fetters, and thy neck 
into her chains. 

"Bow down thy shoulder, and bear her; and be 
not grieved with her bands. 

"Come to her with all thy mind, and keep her 
ways with all thy power. 



174 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

"Search for her, and she shall be made known 
to thee, and when thou hast gotten her, let her 
not go: For in the latter end thou shalt find rest 
in her, and she shall be turned to thy joy. 

"Then shall her fetters be a strong defence for 
thee and a firm foundation, and her chain a robe 
of glory : Eccl. YI., 24—30." 

The exterior practices of Christian piety are 
very appropriate in rendering the soul tractable 
to the services of God, and at the same time she 
humbles the spirit she spiritualizes the senses, in 
raising them to the dignity of the soul, 
making them serve in the greatest act of life, 
which is religious worship, as do the wings of 
the eagle, borne by himself, in turn transport 
him into the bright light. 

Signs typify the sentiments they express, 
and develop them by bearing witness to them. 
To be pious, says Joubert, you must strive to 
make yourself humble. The attitudes which 
we cause our body to assume, to lessen the size 
or to decrease the height, are favorable to piety, 



CATHOLICISM. 175 

SO that we are piously taught we may be "brought 
to consider our nothingness before God."^ 

Let us observe the young man who 
possesses in a marked degree this religious senti- 
ment, how much greater love he bears for his 
parents, friends and all those to whom he is 
under obligation. One can understand that this 
tender and generous piety will predispose and 
open his heart to the most pure and noble affec- 
tions; she will imprint on the soul at the same 
time a sincere and profound disposition to pay 
respect to all that merit respect, and in this man- 
ner justify that remarkable avowal made by 
a Protestant philosopher: 

"Catholicism is the greatest, the most holy 
school for respect the world ever saw."^ 

It is more than that, we have seen it ; it is a 
school of truth and virtue, a school of happiness ! 



V. 



Up to this time the child has expressed love 
only as a sentiment of duty and gratitude, his 
heart is about to love through a more disinter- 

(1) Pensees. (2) M. Guizot. 



176 EDUCATIOX OF THE HEAET. 

ested sentiment. (xod, who has formed his 
heart, after his own image, has put lirst of 
all, says Bossiiet, g-oodness, as the expressive 
sign of His divine attributes. The cliild will love 
then with noble and high-toned generosity; 
and in that immense circle his affections are 
about to extend themselves ! 

In all else he is influenced by very nat- 
ural sentiments, with which it is easy to inspire 
him. Attached to God by a strong and very en- 
lightened love, he will readily understand that 
it is from a divine source he derives every good. 
Oh ! how he will desire to be able to offer to his 
God something in exchange for so many benefac- 
tions ! But how will he do so ? His benefactor 
is one of whom all His creatures should say with 
the Psalmist : ''You are my God and you have 
no need of my beneflts." Indeed what would 
lie give to Him from whom he has received all 
he possesses ? 

These are the means tliat the instructions of 
piety will suggest to him. 

The son of man has said these extraordinary 
words : That which you do to the least of these 



THE POOR. ITT 

poor, yon do it unto me. Henceforth all 
is explained, and all is understood, the 
mystery of Christian charity is unveiled ! 
The poor are the representatives of God, 
to receive the gifts of the pious child, in 
exchange for wliich he will obtain celestial 
favors. 

From his earliest years, the child should be 
conducted to the dwellings of the indigent, and 
should have these words, that contain a sublime 
philosophy repeated to him ; "My child it is 
not only to the poor that you present your gift, 
but to Jesus Christ in the person of the poor." 
The child will then regard him w^ith tender 
compassion mingled with religious respect. He 
will see poverty under its most touching forms, 
it may be the infirm old man, or the mother of a 
family without resource, the sick laborer de23riv- 
ed of his work, and above all the poor half- 
naked child, who like you, may have had par- 
ents in easy circumstances, with a comfortable 
home, warm clothing, abundance of food and 
the advantages of education and have nothing of 
all that left now^ ! 



178 EDUCATION OF THE HEAET. 

At tliis sight the child is melted into profound 
compassion. This is certain to be the result if the 
child is made acquainted with the houses of the 
poor in his childhood. There in that sad mansard 
or attic, in presence of a family trembling with 
cold, and emaciated by want, a source is 
quickly opened in the heart of the child 
to the noblest joys. Then he may there be made 
to comprehend the inequality of existing 
conditions bj^ which the rich who £'ive to the 
poor, may receive the benediction of 
heaven, and the poor in gratitude to the 
rich offer their prayers to God for them. What 
a joy for this child to be able, for example, to 
solace the misery of a poor little orphan, to pro- 
cure an asylum for him, to give him clothes to 
wear, bread to eat, and more than that, procure 
for him the benefits of a Christian education ! 

Perhaps death will soon come to take this poor 
little one from the sufferings of this life ; what 
hapjDiness then for the generous child to know 
he will have a large place in the prayers of this 
angel in heaven. Children are often taken to 
dramatic entertainments, fetes, and other places 



CHARITY. 179 

of 2)leasiire, all of winch might easily be dis- 
pensed with, but what spectacle more touching 
than the misery of the poor 'i What more affect- 
ing scenes than those that take place in the 
abodes of the indigent ? There they may weep but 
not at fictitious and imaginary misfortunes; their 
moral sensibilities will be developed, but to 
render their hearts more tender and humane; 
what haj^j^iness, de sentir son ame bonne ! 

YI. 

It is said: Charity leads to God. This adage is 
a great truth. Nothing more easily opens the 
heart of a young man to religion and all its ele- 
vating sentiments, than love of the j)Oor, that is 
explained in a few words from the scriptures : 
"Give and you shall receive; date, et dabitur 
vobis." 

And then do we know what the future has 
prepared for us, and if, one day, we shall not be 
brought to adversity ourselves ? Fortunes are so 
easily overthrown ! 

"No rich man can say, I shall not die in mis- 
fortune or exile." ^ 

(1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des hommes. 



ISO EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

I do Hot sj^eak of the jov that the care of the 
poor confers upon a sensible vonng man, 
or how he is moved when he sees those 
nnfortunate chikh-en come to thank him 
for liis protection, for their home, clothes, 
and all the succor he has given to them ; 
when he learns that the families to whom he has 
extended a helping hand pronounce his name 
with mingled affection and veneration; that they 
pray for him every day ; that they have become 
better, more religions, since they do not suffer so 
much and that they feel some one is interested 
in them, and by whom they are loved ! 

What happiness to hear a mother say to him 
words that cause his tears to How : "Oh I Sir, 
without you my husband who is so ill would 
have died; in my sorrow I should have soon fol- 
lowed him , and my poor children what would 
have become of them ? But thanks to you we 
are saved, to you we owe our lives I What fete 
can produce such a joyful day ! Let the world 
tell us if its pleasures can be compared to those 
of a sensible and generous heart ! Alas ! we have 
not spoken of the miseries of the soul, concealed 



THE TRUE AMBITION. 181 

under the rags of indigence ; this above all is a 
subject to excite in the young heart the most 
profound and tender compassion ! 

Oh I that child is happy when he has drawn 
from the bosom of a Christian education all that 
may render him virtuous and devoted ! How 
the family where this amiable plant grows 
should find itself blessed by heaven ! Tliat child 
possesses in his piety and sensibility of soul 
something superior to all talent and all human 
honors, in truth he possesses a celestial treasure ! 
"One should," says Yauvenargues, "console him- 
self for not possessing great talent, as he would 
console himself for not occupying a distinguished 
position; for through the heart, one can rise 
above both the one and the other." We would 
say to either a child or a youth. "Do not 
strive to be great but to be good ; do not seek to 
be celebrated, but to be useful. The glory that 
shines a thousand leagues from you, is not worth 
the smile of contentment and friendship received 
from one of your neighbors."^ 

(1) Mme. de Lamartine. 
12 



182 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

Le Pere Lacordaire wrote to a young man as 
follows : 

"Above all things be good ; goodness bears 
the greatest resemblance to God, and is the 
most powerful to disarm man. You have traces 
of it in your soul, but these are furrows of 
inadequate depth. Your li|)s and your eyes are 
not yet what they are capable of being, and no 
art can give them that character, if interior 
goodness is not cultivated. An amiable and sweet 
thought with regard to others is only finished 
by imprinting itself upon the face, to give 
it a form, which attracts all hearts."^ 

Let it be said to us now that a country would' 
not be happy were its children to receive an edu- 
cation conformable to the principles we have 
just hastily sketched. These men of heart 
who have been taught to love all that is 
noble and good, would they not- possess 
love of country to a much higher degree ? For 
true patriotism does not consist in the vain pride 
of being born in such or such a place. If you 
see a man insult religion, sneer at decorum, or 

(1) Lettres des jeunes gens. Paris, Ch. Doimiol. 



NEED OF THE WILL. 183 

speak liglitly of probity, and then cry, My conn- 
try ! My country ! do not believe him; that is a 
hypocritical patriotism, and he is a bad citizen. 
That man is a good patriot, who nnderstands and 
loves all his dnties, and makes it his serions oc- 
cnpation to fulfil them."^ 

It was great good sense that insj^ired Racine 
to write the following to his son : "My son, I de- 
sire to flatter myself that, while making the 
greatest possible effort to become a j)erf ectly hon- 
est man, yon will understand that yon cannot be- 
come snch withont rendering to God what you 
owe Him." Yes, the one who desires to be a truly 
noble man, that is to say an honest man, in the 
full sense that exalted term implies, should fix his 
look uj)on the only source of all that is honest and 
good, upon the real good, upon God. One look 
of faith will enlighten the soul and vivify the 
heart. "God ! From whence comes all virtue, 
and every duty," says Joubert, ''and which we 
cannot see except through God, is the only 
foundation upon which they are ever made in- 
telligible to the mind."^ 

(1) Silvio Pellico, Devoirs des iiommes. (2) Pensees. 



184 EDUCATION OF THE HEART. 

However perfect may be its inclinations, the 
heart has need of direction, sustained bj the 
will, its most powerful faculty . Upon it we 
must lean for support, as the ivy which inter- 
laces itself around the vigorous oak by its flexi- 
ble branches. 



CHAPTEE YII. 

EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 
I. 

In the moral life of man, the light of intelli- 
gence is the torch by which it is directed, 
the inclination of the heart, the motive with 
which it is animated, and the determination of 
the will, the controlling hand. 

It is evident then that of all the faculties of 
the soul, the most important in the role it plays, 
and the empire it exerts, is the will. Con- 
sequently it is of these that education 
demands the greatest care. Much undoubt- 
edly has been done, in the direction given 
to the heart of a child, in teaching him to 
love that which merits his love ; but that would 
be little if that love be not efficacious and trench 
upon the positive result of the will. Study 
itself, even, that discipline of the mind for 
which one too often neglects the education of the 



186 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

remaining faculties, how will it l)ecome extend- 
ed and solid without the aid of a persevering 
will ^ Science, says Bacon, is the will. It is 
an unquestionable necessity then that the child 
learn to will, that he learn to be resolute, and 
act in conformity to the nol)le instincts of his 
heart, which will be for him the means to 
arriye at the desired result. In life, ''nothing is 
impossible ; there are ways which conduct us on 
to the accomplishment of all things and if w^e 
have a strong will, we will always have adequate 
means." ^ 

Learn to will ! But can that be done ? 
Does not the will of a child inhabit an inaccessi- 
ble sanctuary, where nothing can enter but with 
the consent of the one who is its master ? Yes, 
undoubtedly ; but there is a private way by 
which to arrive at this secluded retreat, there is a 
key that opens this entrance, there is also an art 
to which it must submit, which will produce 
docility and determine this free faculty: this art 
is love and discipline. You love ; prove your 
love l)y an unlimited devotion, and you will 

(1) La Rochefoucauld. 



CONTROLLING THE WILL. 187 

have easy access to the soul. Then penetrate 
even to the will, when you will see it sub- 
mit to your counsels, bow down and yiehi itself, 
to faithfully follow your least desire, because it 
knows you command only by love and for its ben- 
efit and happiness. The soul obeys then because 
it loves; it loves because it feels itself beloved. 

This is a law of nature. He who commands, 
naturally inspires fear. Through condescension 
you first give evidence of your affection, for love 
is condescending; God, himself in whom is 
found the plenitude of its divine habitation, 
is the first to show his condescension to us, and 
to humble himself before his fallen creatures, 
and to wliat degree has he not humbled himself ? 
''We love God," says St. Paul, "because he first 
loved us." Ipse prior delexit nos. Profound 
words, which contain a princijDle of immense 
importance in the art of controling men I 

Fenelon regarded a chihrs affection as one of 
the most powerful motives for the education 
of the will: "From the moment," says 
he, "the child is capable of friendship, 
his heart is turned towards those who may 



188 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

be made useful to him with very little difficulty. 
Friendship will lead him to do almost anything 
you desire of him; you have a positive 
attraction leading him to good." 

But how will you obtain this friendship from 
a child ? The only means to attach him to your- 
self is to love him without weakness, to be 
kind to him, and thus to prove to him substan- 
tially the effect of a good, true, and generous 
devotion. 

"It is first," says St. Ambrose, "by calm reason, 
then by tender kindness, that one can win 
affection ; this goodness which is popular, charms 
the world, and nothing insinuates itself more 
easily into the heart. ^" In this consists the whole 
secret of controlling men, and making them such 
as you desire. 

The education of the will is a subject 
cooperated in by the child and his spiritual 
guide ; the priest being the representative of 
God, plays here a very important part. "If I 

(1) Primum placiditate mentis et animi benignitate influ- 
amus in affectum hominum ; popularis enim et grata est 
omnibus bonitas, nihilque est quod tarn facile illabatur 
humanis sensibus. (St. Ambrosius.) 



THE SECRET OF CONTROL. 189 

dared," said M. Cli. St. Foi, "I would style him 
professor of the will." It is indeed he who better 
than all others, teaches the child the art 
to will, because, knowing all his leanings, all 
his inclinations, and all the projjensities of his 
heart, he sees the weak places of the soul that 
mnst be fortified by the aid of religion and salu- 
tary encouragement. 

n. 
What will become of the child if some one 
does not apply himself first of all to form his 
will, to receive the good with which he desires to 
inspire him, through a solid instruction, in the 
noble and generous habit which God, con- 
science, duty and his position demand of him ? 
Without that what will be his life ? Often 
struck with the beauty of virtue, and already at 
the point of attaining it, he feels his heart drawn 
towards it, and ready to act in unison with this 
attractive instinct, but he is always wanting in 
strength to accomplish the happiest design. On 
the other side these frequent but vain desires, 
these oft renewed resolutions, are always 
powerless, because to follow eflicaciously the 



190 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

movements of the heart which knows how to see 
and taste the good, one must have an inner 
strength to dispose him to yield to nothing 
which will prevent him from performing ])Ositive 
acts. That is the price of virtue. 

That which is wanting in the greatest part of 
men is far less the sight of good and the 
instinctive desire to perform it, than the energy 
which knows how to command the senses, to 
silence, and to say to every ol)stacle, "]N'o I" and 
turning to the side of virtue to say to her, 
"Yes, I will be faithful ; yes I will, be the cost 
wdiat it may !'' 

When Jesus Christ granted a great favor, or 
wrought a great miracle ; when he was propos- 
ing the way of perfection, the graces of salvation 
and the glory of heaven, he did not offer all 
these l)enefits but to a courageous and determin- 
ed will. It was always, "Will you V si cpiis vult. 
Yis sanus heri ? — Si vis ad vitam ingredi ^ As if 
the will was the key to all the goods of earth and 
heaven. What is a child or a young man whose 
will first of all is unformed ? He has neither 
connection in his thoughts, nor vigor in his senti- 



COURAGE. 191 

ments; he has neither solidity in his tastes or in his 
affections nor perseverance in his conduct ; you 
will see him always commencing, but never 
accomplishing, promising to reform and falling 
back into evil. Good desires are not wanting in 
him, but he remains sterile. ''In that he may be 
com^^ared to a soldier in a painting, 
who with extended arm holds his sword always 
raised high over the heads of his enemies, but 
which never falls upon them."^ 

The most brilliant qualities of the mind, gen- 
ius, fortune, glory, all that is greatest in the 
world, what is all that without a strong and per- 
severing will to make use of these precious gifts ? 

AlasI All is fragile here below, all may l)e 
changed from one day to the next;, one thing only 
remains enduring in the midst of this mass of 
worldly vanities, and that is, "the strong and 
generous will of a virtuous man."^ 

What a sad spectacle, that of a man who does 
not know how to direct his will, and thus 
becomes the slave of frivolity and passion I Let 

(1) Traite de la perfection chretieune. 

(2) Instum et tenacem propositi virum, (Horace. ) 



192 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

US consider him, as he viekls like soil without 
consistency, to the least pressure. The absence of 
moral strength in his character is the reason he 
inspires no conhdence. And his dearest friends 
cannot trust him. May I not add, he cannot trust 
himself ? Delivered over to inconstant whims 
and a slave to human resjDect, he never knows 
how to make a bold and generous eifort. 

Around him he finds men of energy and resolu- 
tion, from whom he withdraws ashamed of his 
weakness, and to experience only a pro- 
found confusion. The moral superiority of 
others humilitates and crushes him. Indeed, let 
this man be put in a diffcult situation, which re- 
quires a quick glance of the eye, or a courageous 
resolution, what will be the extent of his capa- 
bilities ? He does not know how to deport him- 
self when exalted by prosperity, nor how to 
endure the reverses of adversity, or sickness 
that may prostrate his body. He cannot appreciate 
pleasure even for any length of time, without 
abusing it ; everything becomes to him a subject 
of trouble and disgust. Is this the man ? then 
what are society, his family, his friends to expect? 



AN EDUCATED WILL. 193 

III. 

On the contrary see that young man for whom 
education has formed a firm and persevering 
will; as he advances in life see what calmness, what 
equanimity, what noble courage ! Could it not 
be said he bears within him an invisible strength, 
a mysterious resource which gives him ]30wer to 
react against every obstacle from within, or 
without, to prevent him from following the 
divine law ? In fact, he does possess this hidden 
resource. It is his will, aided by celestial suc- 
cor; through it he fulfils all his duties, because 
it is by her he is given strength to resist. 

In habituating himself to suffer he is in a 
condition to execute the most difiicult enter- 
prises; because : '' One that knows how to suffer 
is daring in all his undertakings."^ Sustained by 
grace, he is established in these virtuous habits 
which are the cables by which we attach our 
hearts to God."" 

He is initiated into the difiicult science of 
knowing how to command, should his position 
some day call upon him to exercise it. "To gov- 

(1) Vauvenargues. (2) Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 



194 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

ern, is to will. One does not govern with ideas, 
bnt with a firm and constant will.'' (Lamennais.) 
Before commanding others, a man mnst know 
how to command himself. 

Finally his will gives constancy and coher- 
ence to all his sentiments ; his affections 
are as solid as profonnd, and his friendship last- 
ing. A secret may be confided to him, and when 
he speaks, those to whom he has given his prom- 
ise rest in the most entire security. 

He may fall because he is still a man ; but his 
return will be prompt, generous, carrying 
the impress of his energetic will, which seems 
rather to renew in strength through his faulty 
experience. * Inaccessable to discouragement, 
he never permits himself to be overcome, and 
the light of lio})e always shinies for him even in 
the night of deepest darkness; death itself will 
not dismay him ; even at his entrance to the 
tomb he will find in his invisible attachment to 
integrity and religion the sweetest consolation. 

It may be said, it is impossible for all to have 
such energetic will. A principle so false in itself, 
must be unfortunate in its consequences ! It is 



EXERCISE OF THE WILL. 195 

easy to understand that the imagination, taste and 
memory contain natural obstacles that might em- 
barrass their exercise. But for the will it is not the 
same, because it is like a distinct characteristic 
of man, to whom it is indispensably necessary. 
From whence it evidently follows that it can 
always be acquired as a supreme means without 
which it will be impossible to attain the end for 
which he was created. Therefore, of all the 
powers of the soul, there is not one that may be 
more easily fortified l)y exercise. 

The will is exercised by making frequent acts, 
and following them with the greatest regularity; 
these are the great educational means to cultivate 
tins important faculty. For the culture 
of the remaining faculties occasions are 
never wanting. What is life but a contin- 
ued unbroken chain of duties to accomplish? 
Very well, it is by the faithful fulfilment of 
their divers obligations, tliat the will prepares 
itself to face the gravest occasions. 

IV. 

But who will always, without fail, be present 
to say to the will what it must do ? authority, 



196 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

law, and duty, who will stand responsible for 
its inconstancy, and give to it understanding in 
its adventures and consequences ? Obedience. 

Yes, Obedience ! that is the great school for 
the will ! but an elevated obedience, tliat feels 
it is doing a duty, in submitting to order. 

Obedience ! But a prompt obedience, which 
does not wait to be menaced; a generous obedi- 
ence, which does not act through fear of chastise- 
ment, or reprimand ; linally a loving obedience 
wliich draws from the heart the fountain-head 
of life, its nourishment and its fidelity. I will 
add also a Christian obedience, which sees God in 
the one who comnuiiids. It is that obedience 
which is supported upon the word of the Evangel- 
ist, and finds in the accomplishment of the most 
obscure duties, the most sublime and meritorious 
occupation,that of doing the good pleasure of God. 
This kind of obedience is beautiful; it is grand 
thus to respect an authority, this great and holy 
thing before which the mind willingl}^ bows 
and does not humble the heart. ^ 

The master of all wisdom, the saviour of the 

(1) M. Guizot. 



THE FRUCTTJATION OF LIFE. 197 

world, passed the thirty years of his life in the 
most humble asylum and in the midst of the most 
obscure labors; obedience regulated all his actions, 
and the Evangelist makes a resume of his hid- 
den life in the following words, which should 
throw a living light upon the education of 
youth : "and was subject to them ! " " Erat sub- 
ditus illis !" and notwithstanding this child was a 
God ! What a lesson of obedience ! what sub- 
lime and fruitful instruction ! 

V. 

In the light we have just presented the sub- 
ject, education of the will is the fructuation of 
life, which, leaving the heart when the will of its 
source determinates itself into the other 
faculties, jDassing from thence into all the acts of 
life, as the sap of the natural plant circulates and 
infiltrates itself into the stalk, and from thence 
passes into the branches to be transformed into 
flowers and fruit. 

Let us examine the phenomenon of a true 
vegetation. The sap, in order to maintain its 
place and circulate usefully in the plant 
must be protected by a coarse rough bark, which 



198 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

at first sight appears of very little utility, which, 
however, in reality is an indispensable succor; for 
should you remove this rough exterior what 
would happen ? The sap being exposed it will 
finally dry up and the death of the plant will 
soon follow. 

Now there is for the education of the will, 
which is moral sap for the child, a rough 
protectrice and guardian, and that is discipline ;^ 
an indispensable means to all instruction as to 
every kind of education. "All the strength of 
education," Plato says, "is in a well understood 
discipline." 

This is why, in institutions of learning where 
youths are brought up, and in all well organ- 
ized society, there is what one calls, "un regle- 
ment," written rules, which are the expression of 
the principal rules of a wise discipline, and the 
occasion of continual obedience. 

"Discipline^ is the Protectress of piety and 
faith in children, the guardian of manners, the 
guarantee for vigorous study, the enspiratrice of 

(1) Ce mot vient de discere, apprendrerecevoirrenseigne- 
ment. (2) Mgr. Dupanloup. 



DISCIPLINE. 199 

a good mind, the conservatrice of docility, respect, 
and affection, even the mistress, the dispensa- 
trice and treasurer of time, the nerve of all rule, 
and when it is necessary becomes the avenge- 
ress of all infractions." 

But that this discipline be never violent, it is 
founded upon personal sentiment ; then she will 
not command order but for the good of those upon 
whom it is imposed, and would love much rather 
to prevent the evil, than to be obliged to 
reprove it. 

One thing let us never forget, that the child 
is free, and you must persuade him to be will- 
ing. Avoid a discipline which is too severe, by a 
punishment, for example, acting upon the body, 
but not upon the will, which may in his interior 
and inaccessable sanctuary always say: JSTo, 
even in submitting to the empire of natural 
force. 

The child always maintains a secret resistance 
against the one who treats him with violence; 
and this interior resistance none have yet 
known how to prevent. 

When one speaks of breaking the will 



200 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

of a child, it is by no means a question to 
destroy or to force this free faculty; it only 
means to nse authority and persuasion in his re- 
gard in order to remove his resistance, and give 
to him that flexibility which will canse a willing 
adaptation to all the details of his duties: 
in a word to make a docile instrument of him, 
which is the natural result upon an enlightened 
elevated mind, and upon the impulse of a virtu- 
ous heart. To iinderstand this word otherwise 
would be to fall into a strange abuse of the 
term. 

At the same time a great deal of penetration 
is not necessary to perceive a difference in the 
disposition of young children, and that some 
require a more rigorous discipline than others. 

You may remember those words of Henri YI 
to his queen: "My friend, you cry when I 
punish our son with a whip; but it is for his 
good, and the pain I give you now will relieve 
you of others much greater in the future." 
Moreover, " The most severe discipline," says 
M. de Laurentie, with reason, " may conceal the 
most frightful vices." 



PUNISHMENT WITHOUT DISCIPLINE. 201 

How many examples of this may not be found 
in our colleges ! The result is that young people 
return, after many years of study, bringing with 
them the remembrance of painful duties, of 
lessons, of surveillance, of reproaches and of pun- 
ishments, but nothing which rejoices the heart 
and tills it with pleasant reminiscences. To 
them youth has been a season despoiled of its 
blossoms and deprived of its poetry. They 
have not loved either masters, duties, or virtue, 
their hearts are fruitless, their will powerless. 
They have had commands laid upon them, they 
have been punished, but they have not been 
formed; lo, they aspire only for that happy 
moment to arrive that will deliver them from an 
odious and useless yoke, and will give them that 
imaginary liberty that they represent to them- 
selves as the ideal of happiness. 

"Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto, 
Gaudet equis canibusque, et aprici gramine campi." 

— Horace. 

VI. 

Among the benefits conveyed through educa- 
tion by a wise and unequivocal discipline — and 



202 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

one of the most remarkable — is silence, which 
obliges children to pay attention. How much 
meaning these words contain : to pay attention ! 
When he is attentive, the child does something ; 
he directs his faculties toward the one who 
speaks, or counsels ; he seizes the instruction, the 
example, the pious inspiration, and he assimi- 
lates to himself the elements of education: he 
does a praiseworthy act, because he pays attention! 

This is then, permit us to say in passing, one 
of the most important habits to give to a child ; 
all his life he will feel its influence. " It is the 
power of attention," says Blair, "which most 
frequently distinguishes the man endowed with 
great gifts from the vulgar crowd which sur- 
rounds him, who regard neither regulation nor 
order in their hap-hazard march. Objects float 
to the surface of their souls like leaves carried 
by the wind to all sides and dispersed over the 
bosom of the water." 

" It is discipline," also says Mgr. Dupaidoup, 
"which commands and imposes silence, for silence 
is a salutary lesson which insures the success of 
all others. In maintaining silence in class, for 



DISCIPLINE ESSENTIAL. 203 

example, it is discipline which checks the glance 
of indiscreet curiosity, presenting his answer at 
the most opportune and convenient moment, and 
thus does not tolerate in the sanctuary of science 
any but worthy and gracious words, impressed 
with sweet amenities." 

It is often thought that in order to conciliate the 
affections of a child greater freedom of action 
must be given it ; what an error ! Children pos- 
sess in themselves germs of goodness and order ; 
they soon come to judge and estimate a too in- 
dulgent master. Besides, the fear of being un- 
popular is irreconcilable with duty, and the sure 
way not to lose either the affections or the re- 
spect of children is to maintain discipline, which 
without being one of exaggerated authority may 
be found equally far from an indulgence degen- 
erating into w^eakness ; following the maxim 
" That the master should not use a severity too 
depressing, nor an indulgence too yielding, for 
fear that the former might cause him to be 
hated, and the latter that he be despised."^ 

(1) Non austeritas ejus tristis, non dissoluta sit comitas, 
ne inde odium, huic contemptus oriatur. (Quinti. 6, 11, 2.) 



204 EDUCATION OF THE WILL. 

In causing yourself to be loved, you must not 
neglect to make yourself feared ; here are to 
be found the two great motives of education. 
We do not speak here of a servile fear ; tliere is 
yet another species of fear, tender and delicate, 
which obeys a look from the eye, and is sensibly 
moved at the thought only of offending one 
whom one loves. A most touching sensibility, 
one which at the same time exalts the character 
of the one from whose heart it animated, as also 
of the one who inspires the sentiment. 

It is this paternal and salutary discipline of 
the child's will which will sustain him in the 
way of his duty, and will habituate him to 
remain fixed in his purposes. "Happy habit, con- 
dition, j)owerful support, fruitful expedient in 
his simplicity even, and which renders the most 
difficult enterprises possible to him ; for, in life, 
there are routes which conduct us to the accom- 
plishment of all things ; and if we have sufficient 
will, we shall always have abundant means." ^ 

(1) La Rochefoucauld. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. 
I. 

We come now to consider what should be the 
relative j)osition of an educated intellect to the 
heart and will ; this is the fundamental point 
and basis of the great object in which we are 
interested. But the child j^ossesses other facul- 
ties which call also for cultivation and develop- 
ment. The judgment is one, and a faculty so 
necessary that the use is continual, and shows 
itself often under the forms of tact and good 
sense, qualities as rare as they are excellent, two 
branches growing from the same trunk; the 
memory, " repertoire," fruitful in the most useful 
souvenirs ; the imagination, a brilliant faculty 
and an inexhaustible source for variet}^ of orna- 
ment, and which colors every object by the aid 
of its clever brush ; the taste, that sense of the 
beautiful, so delicate and so noble ; and finally 



206 PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. 

genius, that powerful creator, which sees so quick 
and so far : these are gifts too precious for edu- 
cation to neglect their culture. One feels that 
here education might be made a doctrine for 
the soul. Although the limits of this work will 
not permit us to examine the foundation of this 
interesting subject, we can not relinquish the 
desire to show some of its principal traits. May 
we not in some measure compare the soul of a 
child to a magnificent palace which the will 
enters to inhabit as sovereign mistress, uniting 
its existence to that of the judgment, and acting 
after its counsels ? and there putting to work 
all the subaltern faculties, she should produce 
good and useful acts, which will be the orna- 
ments and riches of this amiable sojourn. The 
intellect lends its light to her ; assidious to con- 
sider and to study all subjects, she gathers up 
seeds and collects knowledge, which she con- 
fides to the memory, the guardian of that rich 
deposit ; somewhat like a secretary who is in- 
cessantly occupied in reading, digesting and 
confiding the results to a librarian or archivist. 
The judgment, a judicious and wise counselor, 



AN ADMIRABLE WHOLE. 207 

is consulted at every step ; whose decisions serve 
to govern all the other faculties. 

In this intellectual and moral elaboration, the 
materials are furnished above all by the imagin- 
ation, w^hich diligently occupies itself in collect- 
ing images, ideas and souvenirs, to aid the senses 
which are apertures in the palace through 
which the impressions enter, coming from with- 
out. Often this facility in its too officious 
activity would permit many defective or injuri- 
ous things to penetrate the soul, if the taste were 
not there to watch over and discern between the 
good and evil which she produces, deciding what 
to receive and what to reject. 

The habitation of life, placed in the center of 
the soul, the heart vivifying all, communicates 
to all the faculties w^armth, as the spirit 
diffuses amongst them its eclat, and as genius 
sometimes pours out upon them the flood of its 

light. 

What an admirable whole ! w^hat magnificent 
gifts ! and when one thinks that all these germs 
are contained in one child how one ought to feel 
a noble courage animate him to work upon a 
foundation so precious ! 



20S PHYSIOLOGY OF EDUCATION. 

li. 

One will compreliend that from tlie earliest 
moment it is necessary to form the judgment of 
a child, which is of continual service to him. 
During the course of his life he will have con- 
stantly to judge of men and things. That which 
will be least developed in his other faculties, 
may sometimes be supplied up to a certain 
point by the judgment, while that can never be 
replaced by either of the others. 

Without doubt a promj)t and facile intelli- 
gence is an immense resource, and one that 
ought to be esteemed at every period of life, 
but this quality has not its true A^alue except so 
far as it is supported and sustained by a pure 
judgment, full of truth and precision. 

"A vivacious mind is like a bright stone ; but 
the one who has vivacity combined with judg- 
ment, is like a diamond that has every property 
necessary to render it precious."^ Besides, of 
what service will it be to a mind which con- 
ceives quickly and judges with facility, if the 
ideas and the judgment are wanting in justice ? " 

(1) Flecbier, Reflections sur les caracteres des hommes. 



JUDGMENT. 209^ 

" It is of no advantage to have an active mind 
if it is not jnst ; the perfection of a penduhini 
does not consist in its rapid motion, but in the 
regularity witli which those movements are 
made."^ Now two things are necessary above all 
others to a child that he may form a good judg- 
ment : they are reflection upon thought and tran- 
quillity of mind. Ordinarily our false judgment 
arises from two causes, too great precipitancy in 
action, which does not take time to examine, and 
preoccupation of mind which yields blindly ta 
some passion. A child is not habituated to re- 
flect soon enough, nor to observe men and things; 
while this attentive observation only can 
furnish material for a just and true judg- 
ment. Nothing is more injurious than to toler- 
ate in children a disposition to judge without 
knowledge, to pronounce upon everything, and 
to say in a preemptory tone, " Cela est cela, n'est 
pas ;" he will liabituate himself to speak upon 
those subjects he does not understand, and 
vaguely endeavor to discuss them ; tlie result 
will be that their conversation, as also their 

(1) Vauvenargues. 



210 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

writings or their works, cannot bear the criti- 
cism of a man of good sense or education. 

One other thing very necessary for the culti- 
vation of this faculty, is to give to children 
none but excellent books to read. Alas ! how 
many are there not who in their youth have 
formed from certain dangerous reading false 
judgments, which sooner or later they have been 
obliged to counteract with infinite trouble ? Of 
how many errors of, speech or imprudent steps 
has not this unfortunate reading been the source! 
On the contrary, nothing is better to strengthen 
and fortify the judgment than to read those 
discriminating authors, all of whose assertions 
are tnie, and all of whose thoughts may be medi- 
tated uj)on, because they are just and sensible. 

From the judgment two precious qualities pro- 
ceed, viz., tact and good sense. Tact holds nearly 
the same relation to the soul, as the sensation of 
touch to the body. It is like an interior sense, a 
sort of spiritual touch by which the soul per- 
ceives the good qualities or defects of others, 
and regulates itself accordingly ; the same as 



TACT. 211 

by the sense of touch from the body we come 
to know the different objects we come in contact 
with. A man without tact,though otherwise with 
the most excellent qualities of mind and heart, 
succeeds rarely in his enterprises, because he 
knows how to take neither men nor things. He 
resembles those people whose hands being rude 
and coarse break a fragile object as soon as they 
touch it. Alas! how disastrous the results of 
want of tact in a man who is superior to others 
and who is capable as a leader to fix their 
value ! what bruised hearts have been the con- 
sequences of the touch of this unscrupulous 
hand ! what talent rejected and destroyed by 
him ! how many beings overthrown ! what ruins ! 
Is it not like a barbarian who destroys a thousand 
objects, of which he cannot comprehend either 
the use or the value? A man without tact is 
an evil the more to be dreaded, because he 
does not see the evil of which he is the cause. 
During our entire life tact is forming and per- 
fecting itself, for it is first of all the result of 
social relations formed from intercourse with 
men ; but one can say nevertheless it is formed 



212 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

in our childhood years, and above all in our 
youth, when we acquire the qualities from 
whence it flows. Docility of mind, purity of 
heart, the rectitude of the will, a just judgment, 
are the elements without which it will never 
form itself. Pride, anger, and voluptuousness,, 
on tlie contrary, are passions with which it is 
incompatible. 

Good sense is also derived from the judgment, 
w4th this difference that it is something more 
spontaneous. The man of judgment reasons 
well, the man of good sense divines justly. 

Good sense is like a disposition habituated 
to readily And the truth. That is why it should 
be in a measure the base or foundation of a 
mind well organized. 

"In the world of intellect," says M. de Bonold,, 
"good sense is the learned proprietor, and the 
mind is only the furniture." It is readily seen by 
this how important it is to cultivate this precious 
quality in children; for without it the mind 
will in vain hope to excel by false brilliancy and 
deceit, but often proves only the receptacle of 
error and false pretentions. 



MEMORY. 213 

in. 

What shall we say of the memory, that prodig 
ions faculty, of which tlie attentive consideration 
caused the invincible Cicero to conclude it was 
proof of the spirituality of the soul and the 
most formidable argument of the existence of 
a God ? " How grand is the power of memory ! 
one is seized with a species of awe when con- 
sidering the profound depths and the multiplic- 
ity of things therein endlessly contained."^ 

This faculty is so useful and serves us in so 
many ways, that Montague says, "Science is 
nothing but memory." Happily there is no 
faculty more easily cultivated in youth. We 
wc»uld only say care must be taken that it be not 
overcharged. Xow we have arrived at one of the 
most brilliant faculties of the human mind, a 
magic power, enchantress, the imagination, pro- 
ducing images and pictures with an astonishing 
facility. 

"Retire le passe, devance ravenir, 

Ref ait tout ce qui fut, fait tout ce qui doit etre ; 

Dis a I'un d'exister a I'autre de renaitre ; 

(1) Confessions de Saint Au^ustin. 
14 



214 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

Et coinme a TEternel, quand sa voix I'appela, 
L'etre, encore au neant, lui repond, me voila! 
Des maitres du cireau' du pinceau, de la lyre, 
C'est elle qui produit, qui nourrit le delire, 
Donne au fier conquerant son rapide coup d'oeil, 
Des grands coeurs entretient le genereux orgueil."^ 

She mantles everything with her pleasing 
color, she gives in a manner a sensible form even 
to objects in the spiritual order. Placed, so to 
speak, upon the confines of sense and intellect, 
she submits to the latter her impressions after 
having transformed them into images. 

One of the greatest advantages of the imagina- 
tion, is that she presents the thought to our 
minds clothed in a form of beauty ; the mind, 
taken by the charms of truth thus presented, 
is more willingly inclined to embrace it, while a 
divine attraction seizes upon the heart. 

She serves all the other faculties, and renders 
each one of these functions more agreeable and 
more flexible. Aided by her the intellect pre- 
sents clear ideas life like and more easily 
understood ; the memory has fresh souvenirs, 
and more animated ; the words are more life 

(1) Delille, poBme de I'imagination. 



THE IMAGINATION. 215 

giving, and the style more flowing ; it produces 
sweeter and more tender emotions in the heart ; 
and the will itself, that austere power, does not 
disdain her concurrence. She draws from thence 
for her spontaneous determination something 
more enthusiastic and transporting in producing 
her acts. 

It is above all in literary studies, and especially 
in composition, that the imagination is to the 
scholar of the greatest service. " Composition is 
a painting and it is necessary to have images ; it 
is an animated picture, therefore you must have 
sentiment. But these images and these senti- 
ments, from what source shall we go to draw 
them? The author of nature has put them 
within ourselves, in giving to us two faculties, 
suited in every way to be diffused through our 
pictures, I mean the imagination and the heart, 
the imagination to hold the brush, and the heart 
to conduct it. 

" The imagination as the word indicates is the 
mother of imagery, and feats that are called inge- 
nuities : it is she who furnishes to the orator and 



216 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

the poet their most beautiful figures, it is by 
her speaking in the words of Boileau/ 

"Que I'esprit orne, eleve, embellit toutes choses 

Et trouve sous sa main des fleures tou jours ecloses." 

It is easy to comprehend the grave importance 
then of cultivating this faculty in children, not 
alone, neither in predominant manner, but at 
the same time with the others, and in a manner 
proportioned to the development that one gives 
to them. 

"Taken separately, the imagination is of but 
little importance, but it is an estimable gift when 
united to the other powers of the mind. She 
walks, or rather she flies before the faculties to 
which she allies herself, she encourages them to 
follow her and calls upon them to step in her foot 
prints, opening up to them new routes." ^ 

It would evidently be working against the de- 
signs of God to restrain the imagination of chil- 
dren, which is their j^rincipal resource of enthu- 
siasm for the beautiful, the sacred fire, which, 
nourished by pure images, rises towards the 
good, and to that end is a powerful aid. 

(1) Essai sur le beau. 

(2) Chateaubriand, melange litteraire. 



DANGERS OF THE IMAGINATION. 217 

But imagination will not produce the liappy 
effects that one might expect, except in serving 
the other faculties, without controlling them. 
For she is an admirable servant, but a detestable 
mistress. Montaigne calls her, la folle du logis, 
or "female lunatic of the house." If you give 
her the authority, she becomes capricious, exact- 
ing, and unmanageable, like a servant who has 
come to domineer over his master and lead him 
at his will. It is at such a point that, in order to 
arrest the evil and re-establish command over the 
soul, one is obliged sometimes to renounce 
entirely the very great advantages that her con- 
currence offers, rather than to submit to such 
grave inconveniences. 

In youth she shows her tendency to domi- 
neer ; ordinarily vice does not penetrate into 
the soul of a child until after having first gained 
its imagination by means of the senses, after the 
manner of a thief, who in order to enter a house, 
first tries to subordinate an unfaithful servant. 

These disadvantages are not to be feared if 
one instructs a child in such a manner, that the 
will and the judgment both are always made to 



218 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

rule over the imagination. However, its educa- 
tion should never be neglected ; it may become 
of immense ntility. 

Literary studies are for her a powerful 
means of development ; they can furnish an 
agreeable and variable aliment, but care must 
be taken not to enervate her by making too 
great effort to give her nourishment ; she is for- 
tified by wise sobriety ; excessive delicacy 
injures it when nothing preserves it better or 
cantributes more to its formation than purity of 
heart ; in that she finds her vigor and her pro- 
tection, her power and her beauty. 

Let us hold over the imagination of children 
an attentive vigilance : for a dangerous thought 
or idea may give place to culpable desires, and 
to the most unfortunate errors, or to faults 
whose consequences may be most serious; she 
may be the origin of a long train of souvenirs 
which will fatigue the memory and soil the 
heart. 

At this point the exercise of vigilance should 
be much more active than in childhood, because 
this faculty has more strength and life than the 



LOVE OF BEAUTY. 219 

others. Thoughts even the most serions seldom 
present themselves to the mind bnt under the 
form of imagery. 

The child pursues the beautiful rather than 
the true, and in order that he may love the good 
it must also be made to appear to him under the 
form of beauty. A young man does not know 
yet how to appreciate that calm joy that the 
sight of truth gives to intelligence ; he looks first 
of all for beautiful impressions, for the most 
seducing pleasures which make the heart leap 
for joy and moves her sometimes even to relieve 
herself in the overflow of poetry and enthusiasm 
with which she is filled. 

Love of beaiity when it is pure and strong 
has something serious in it which raises the soul 
to God, in augmenting in her the thirst to see 
and taste the supreme good in whom all beauty 
is contained. 

'' I do not know," said a young philosopher, 
" but one desirable thing here below, and that is 
beauty ; and still it is not a good only so far as 
it excites and bri2:htens our desires, not because 
it fills and satisfies them. It is not purely a dis- 



220 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

traction that I look for in the arts and in nature, 
I feel that the love I have for the beautiful is a 
positive love, for it is a love which produces 
suffering. The splendor of a night, the calm of 
a landscape, a breath of soft air passing 
over the face divine purity in the face of 
the Madonna, a Greek head, a Yenus, a song, 
' que tout cela me remplit de souffrance ! ' The 
greater the beauty is we see, the more it leaves 
the soul ' inassouvie,' and tilled with insatiable 
imagination." ^ 

Thus that beautiful faculty the imagination 
finds in love that which is truly beautiful, a 
means of true elevation and the source of the 
noblest joys. 

To avoid the predominance of imagination in 
children and young peoj^le, one would do well 
to habituate them to think sometimes without 
imagination, and by pure ideas. Mathematics 
here would be of very great utility. Be on 
your guard and do not permit indiscrimi- 
nate readings of certain works where the 
imagination holds too prominent a place ; or that 

(1) Alfred Tonnelle. 



NATURAL HISTORY. 221 

exalts inordinately. It is the same with thea- 
tres and all that has too much infatuating 
•eclat. Religious pomp in worship is the most 
imposing sj^ectacle, and the most capable of 
acting effecatiously upon youth. The beauties 
of nature, the view of the country, the brilliant 
flowers, this is the aliment that can be produced 
for him with a prodigal and fearless hand. 

What varied resources will one not find in 
natural history, the study of plants, of insects 
and minerals ! What ideas and proofs of 
natural philosophy will the ordinary phenome- 
non of nature explain ; a charming recreation 
and not less useful ! 

They show that this universe is not a closed 
book — un livre ferme for children, but on the 
contrary always a living proof of the power, 
goodness and providence of the Creator ! Let 
us observe in the meantime, that in order to 
offer this usefulness, and raise the soul near to 
God, these studies sliould not be limited, as they 
too often are to classifications and definitions; 
nothing is more fruitless. N^atural history 



222 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

should be taught to children something after the 
manner of Buffon. 

A young man who at an early hour has formed 
a taste for this charming study, one can well say 
with a celebrated naturalist : "How is it that 
one does not alw^ays preserve an ardent taste for 
the natural sciences ? Whatever destiny awaits 
you, in whatever country of the globe you pass 
your days, nature will surround you by her phe- 
nomenons, by her wonders, when you will be in 
the midst of objects for study. 

" This collection that nature has spread out in 
such magnificence before eyes worthy to con- 
template them, will follow us everywhere, and 
they are superior to all those that time, art and 
power may present in temples consecrated to in- 
struction. 

" Ah ! never renounce the purest source of 
happiness which can be reserved to the human 
species ! All that philosophy has said of study 
in general, what ought we not to say of 
this constant and sweet passion, which becomes 
more active by time, burns without consuming, 
and leads us by so great a charm. In its begin- 



THE NATTTEAL SCIENCES. 223 

ning it lias to observe the acts of the Creator's 
power, for its last end the perfecting of them in 
order to enjoy an interior peace, a concealed and 
inexpressible contentment. How she embellishes 
every object with which she is allied ! To what 
age, to what state, to what fortune does she not 
belong ? She enchants our youthful years ; she 
gives us pleasure in riper age, she adorns old age 
by flowers dissipating chagrin, calming grief and 
dispelling ennui. 

"No, after virtue, nothing can conduct us more 
surely to happiness than a love for the natural 
sciences ; there the imagination will have 
for itself a sanctuary ornamented with beautiful 
and holy pictures, each one of which will awak- 
en a sweet memory, a pure affection, and a celes- 
tial hope. The study of the arts of design and 
of painting, and of music, provided they are not 
permitted to interfere with what is more impor- 
tant in education, will serve to form this admira- 
ble faculty."^ 

We cannot do better than to recall here an 

(1) Lacepede, discourse de cloture du cours d' histoire 
naturelle. 



224 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

admiral )le page froni T«>pfer. It is a father 
who gives in writing to his son some advice 
npon the study of the " l^eaux-arts." " Thou 
askest of me if it gives me j^leasure to see thee 
apply thyself, to imitate on paper the things 
which strike thee in the field or elsewhere. 
This question only causes me joy, in that it 
proves to me that thy tastes incline thee towards 
the culture of the ' beaux-arts.' 

" I know^ better than thee, my son, what life 
is : it is a continuation of labors and duties that 
must be accomplished in the midst of agitations 
and all strts of vicissitudes. These labors 
often painful must be broken by long hours of 
leisure, and it is the employment of this leisure 
time wdiich is a stumbling-block for men, of 
those at least who, like thyself, are so su- 
perior to others that they can find in constant 
exercise of powerful faculties a healthful ali- 
ment for their activity. 

" Look around thyself amongst ordinary men, 
how many consume their hours in sterile idle- 
ness, as inactive in mind as in body and leaving 
to a shameful loss those hours they could enrich 



THE STUDY OF NATURE. 22.5 

to their profit and those of others ! How many 
are consumed in frivolous amusements, which 
have no other attractions than the foolish pleas- 
ure of vanity, or the gross appetite for good 
cheer! How many biases with all these things 
have recourse to injurious or even culpabable 
joys, and those too, among men of whom better 
things might have been expected ; for it is the 
minds most susceptible of good that idleness is 
most successful in ensnaring ! Wherever she 
finds coldness and death what has she to injure ? 
Wherever she finds warmth and life there she 
embraces and corrupts. 

"Happy then my son if thou inclinest 
towards a relaxation which preserves thee from 
that error of idleness and these unfortunate 
errors. Of all things which bear the name of 
pleasure and which serve for the recreation of 
men, there is none that I esteem more highly, 
more sweet and more preservative, more useful 
and more noble in its nature, more proper to 
occupy the mind and the fingers and conduct 
the soul towards the source of all that is beauti- 
ful and pure ; there are none in my opinion that 



226 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

might not have something to lose in comparison, 
no, not even the culture of letters for which I 
profess so much esteem. 

" Letters give a livelier pleasure but less con- 
stant ; thej occupy the mind more but relax less, 
and in youth they are not without quicksands. 
But above all, my dear son, while the practice 
of the ' beaux-arts ' is suited to all, the prac- 
tice of letters cannot be suitable but for superior 
men. If the practical use of them is only 
to enlighten oneself by their brilliancy to 
drink from the beautiful cup, and become a 
faithful lover of it. Oh ! then, they are superior 
to the beaux-arts to lend charm to life and the 
most noble relaxation. But it is justly one 
motive more why I rejoice in the direction thy 
inclinations take thee ; for art and letters follow 
neighbouring routes which approach each other 
and finally cross. Thou has taken the one that 
will most assuredly conduct to the other. 

" Follow then my son, and fear not that I see 
thee without joy advance thyself towards these. 
happy recreations, from whence will flow the 
sweetest moments of thy life. After thou shall 



THE STUDY OF NATURE. 227 

have crossed the first steps, or ratlier from the 
first steps, thou wilt see open up before thee an 
unlimited field of new joys, and little by little 
there reposing thy tent, thou wilt hasten every 
day to finish thy labors in order to return to thy 
dear solitude. There satisfied and peaceful, going 
from one sketch to another, till advancing in pro- 
gress in each one you will discover the art which 
which you strive to imitate, and in nature which 
serves thee as a model, things curious to the mind, 
useful to the intellect, or interesting to the 
heart. For there is in this species of labor a par- 
ticular advantage which explains how the mind 
is diverted by its occupations, those being more 
or less divided between physical and mental 
labors in such a manner that by employing 
several different faculties in their turn, thou art 
relieved from fatigue and rest is given through 
change of faculties. The most simple sketch 
you may make, of country or forest, dexterity, 
intelligence, observation, judgment and imasjina- 
tion will find each in its turu, its place and em- 
ment, without speaking of the attractive charms 
by those who are moved by the beauties of 



228 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

nature. Those places of wliich thou wilt have 
reproduced the images, will become dear to thee.. 
The outlines however rude, that thou hast 
made, will ever retrace themselves, not only for 
the interest they had for thee, but with all the 
pleasure thou hast already experienced in paint- 
ing them. Join to this a natural sympathy al- 
ways ill common amongst those who drink at the 
same source, and to these delights may be added 
those of deep friendships founded on common 
tastes, also sweet and agreeable entertainments, 
where questions present themselves, sometimes 
grave and at other times gay, but always in- 
structive upon the subject of art. Where is 
the time for idleness, ennui or vice ? My son, 
after virtue there is nothing as praiseworthy as 
wisdom, and can wisdom clothe herself in more 
amiable traits than those of the muses ?" ^ 

As to the study of music, one too often shrinks 
before the difficulties of leading to the front the 
study of this with the rest, for the education 
of young people ; and notwithstanding these re- 

(1) Reflections et menus propos d'un peintre, Genevois 
par TOppfer, t, 1 ch. 9. 



MUSIC. 229 

sources were created for them, what a gift is 
also given to tliem by a pure and finished taste 
for music ! Let one teach them early to despise 
tliat brilliant encore that is often too highly 
esteemed in onr day. Mendelssohn said with 
spirit that he preferred a clever mountebank 
dancino^ on an elevated rope, than one of those 
furious artists fatiguing the audience by his com- 
plicated scales and his deafening passages of 
strength! " I tremble for the days of a juggler," 
says he ; '^for the fear that he may break his neck 
moves and interests me, but I have not this sad 
recourse with a brilliant pianist.'- Let us en- 
deavor then to inspire a young man with love 
for the real masters ; if he is fortunate enough to 
appreciate them, they will offer to him the most 
attractive study and the most substantial pleas- 
ure. His mind will be elevated, and he will 
find there an entirely new language, increasing 
in interest as he advances in intimacy with it 
until he finds its unlimited capacity. 

La seule ou la pensee, 
Cette vierge pudique et d'une ombre offensee, 
Passe en gardant son voile et sans craindre les yeux. 

If a young man desires to succeed intelli- 
14 



230 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

gently in harmonious sounds, if lie has a taste 
for the strains sometimes majestic sometimes 
passionate of Beethoven, for the copions, tender, 
graceful genius of Mozart — if he go so far even 
as to enter into the severe mind of Bach, to his 
energetic and finished hymns, what friends he 
will have! He will see without ennui and 
without fatigue his hours run, even his entire 
evenings ! And if he be able to interest him- 
self in a great work, too mnch neglected, 
that of raising the standard of our religious 
music ! Oh! tlien, what happiness for him to 
contribute, to render to this august muse her 
true character, and to prevent its being degraded 
to other purposes, as we too often see it, even 
looking for applause as in a theatre. Will he 
not be happy, will he not merit all praise if he 
contributes to elevate, to purify the inspiration 
of christian music, and return to it the ancient 
integrity of her pure and chaste beauty ? 

If one is sensible of the infinite resources 
which are offered by music to the child one 
pretends to instruct, one must never be influ- 
enced by that false assertion that an indifferent 



TASTE. 231 

master will do to commence with. It is in 
music as in every species of education; all de- 
pends upon the principles and impulse given at 
the point of departure. 

The first master in music should l)e chosen 
with the most minute care and enlightenment. 

IV. 

It matters little to have a fruitful imagination 
if one does not know how to discern skillfully 
amongst the multitude of things she produces, 
what is suitable and proper. 

This discernment, this choice is made by an- 
other faculty not less useful, but more rare, and 
is called taste. 

Taste is the sense of the beautiful, as judg- 
ment is the sense of the true. "It possesses a 
prompt discernment like that of the tongue and 
the palate, and like them precedes reflection; 
resemblino; them in being sensible and delicate, 
with regard to beauty; and too, like them rejects 
what is unpalatable with indignation; and often 
like them is uncertain, misleading and ignorant 
even if what is presented to it ought to please, 



232 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

and having need sometimes like them, of the 
habit of self -formation." ^ "In its application 
to literature, one might say that taste is the 
spirit of adaptation in thought and style." ^ 
This facility seems to iis as well defined by the 
following extract : 

"Taste is the imperative sentiment of the pro- 
ductions of nature and art." ^ 

It is not optional and left to the caprice 
of each one : it forms itself, or perfects itself 
through knowledge and the study of models: 
which readily shows how important it is never 
to put at the disposition of children objects only 
that they may legitimately admire, or simply 
see their defects. 

What a powerful means to form the taste is 
the study of ancient and modern literature both 
sacred and profane! In which one may acquire 
an exquisite purity: a beautiful phrase is not for 
the scholar simply a beautiful phrase, and noth- 
ing more understood and tasted ; it supposes 
already a faculty exerted to feel and appreciate 
the beautiful. 

(1) Voltaire. (2) M. Patin. (3) Descuret, 



TASTE. 2^3 

'' In beauty there is something real and fixed. 
A thing is not beautiful because it is admired by 
rote, but it is beautiful if it is admired by a great 
number of men : not because it gives them 
pleasure but because their pleasure manifestly 
comes from the fact that it is something in con- 
nection with their nature with what they have 
in common in their manner of judging and 
feeling. 

" Taste admits nevertheless personal prefer- 
ences ; the comparative shades of beauty should 
not be circumscribed in a manner too absolute."^ 
It follows then, that if the beautiful has de- 
termined conditions, the taste which discerns 
it should have rules which are not more arbi- 
trary than those ; but which repose upon princi- 
ples which are drawn from a profound study of 
human nature. Rules do not create beauty, but 
they instruct us how to become better acquainted 
with it, and extricate it from the blemish by 
which it is disfigured; they protect the taste 
against the fallacy of individual dispositions. 

(1) Riambourg, Oeuvres philosophiques. 



234 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

It is for this reason rules are applied, but it is 
from the sentiment it has received them. 

^'These things are very distinct : one may have 
a great deal of taste without having a suspicion 
of the rules, and reason perfectly upon rules 
without having the least taste." ^ A natural 
disposition must in this instance form the base 
of all culture : that instinctive sentiment of 
beauty will be enlightened, conducted and devel- 
oped by education. 

It is not possible to know how greatly the taste 
is chajiged by that which soils the conscience : 
the sentiment of beauty and that of virtue should 
be inseparable. " At every epoch and amongst 
all peoples corruption of manners gives a fatal 
thrust to taste, and, what is more deplorable ! 
a few years of disorder suffice to ruin that deli- 
cate fruit which required several centuries to 
bring to its maturity." ^ 

It is the same with the individual ; the most 
perfect taste will not be able to resist the cor- 
rupting breath of vice for any length of time. 

(1) Riambourg, Oeuvres philosophiques. (2) Descient. 



GENIUS. 235 

Y. 

One admirable faculty is left for us to exam- 
ine, and that is genius,^ which has such a 
wonderful character to create. In the mean 
time imitation is not excluded : for if we will 
admire the genius who have invented in arts, 
we should also render thanks to those who have 
perfected their inventions. Genius sees, invents 
and makes perfect. It differs from talent in 
• that it is more exterior, and belongs more to a 
brilliant execution. 

While genius resides rather in the interior cen- 
ter of the intellect, the heart and the will it is 
the strength of the soul, its extent and power to 
conceive. One has genius for poetry and painting ; 
while another has talent for speaking and writ- 
ing. 

True genius is one, and nothing is more op- 
posed to it than that vague disposition which 
makes all genius equal . 

(1) This word comes from the Latin word genius, formed 
from genere, to produce, because the character of gen- 
ius is a particlar aptitude to create, to invent, to produce 
anew; by some it is believed to come from ingenium, quasi 
ingenium, because it seems to be the effect of a natural 
gift of a certain predisposition. 



236 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

" There are the great captains," says Boiirda- 
loue, " who, independent of that, have very little 
genius." 

Genius and taste are very intimately uni- 
ted ; in the arts they cannot be separated with- 
out injurious effects. It is that which made 
Chateaubriand say that : " Taste is the good 
sense of genius." 

Genius raises and enlarges all that it touches 
— in government, in war, in letters, in arts, the 
man of genius sees what others have not seen 
before him, and makes what others have not 
known how to make. Quick conception, a 
glance from the eye, prompt and sure, rapid and 
firm execution, a fortunate audacity, such as these 
have the marks of genius. There is then the in- 
spiration of great thoughts and great things, 
which results from the development of all the 
faculties, notwithstanding it does not instruct it- 
self, but is acquired by study, which serves only to 
stimulate and excite it to reveal itself. The coun- 
sels of a master or a friend are for him, the 
breath which reanimates the smouldering sparks 
upon the hearth from whence bursts forth 



GENIUS AND TALENT. 23Y 

tlie living flame. M. de Chateaiibriaud, in speak- 
ing of the years of his youth, has said : ''I grew 
up near to my sister Lueile, our life converted in 
our friendship. It was during a walk that Lueile 
hearing me speak in glowing terms of solitude, 
said to me : ' You ought to paint all that.' 
Those words revealed the muse to me, a divine 
breath passed over me." In youth one often 
perceives in a young man the sparks of genius. 

Oh ! how necessary, then, is some generous, 
loving, devoted master ! But if he has not tact, 
he will pay no attention to it. Some whim of 
that child which will only produce ridiculous 
pride! He will be discouraged, and in order 
to conceal and cause to disappear what he 
terms originality, he will throw water upon 
a fire which might have the beginning of 
such great things. The genius that produces sur- 
prising results, even be they still imperfect, 
astonishes and causes admiration. It is a torrent 
whose source is rapid, unequal, and at times a 
wild and terrible beauty. Talent is more dura- 
ble ; the more it is used the less it is consumed. 
For this reason it is considered an indispensible 



238 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

auxiliary to genius, to whose works it assures 
durability and perfection. 

Alas ! for we must say it, genius is rarely 
known and apj)reciated by its contemporaries. 
Homer, it is said, recited his verses from door to 
door, to earn his bread ; Camoens died in a hos- 
pital ; Tasso was steeped in misfortune and hu- 
miliations ; Milton saw himself reduced to the 
greatest misery in his old age ; Columbus, load- 
ed with chains, was confined in an odious prison 
for four years, after having discovered a new 
world. How many times it happens that a man 
of genius dies before coming to the knowledge 
that he had immortalized himself ! As a matter 
of fact, it is not genius that makes a fortune for a 
man or even secures happiness for him. For this 
reason the one who has received this magnificent 
but dangerous gift from heaven should, more than 
all others, depend upon religion to sustain him ; 
she alone in adding to his moral grandeur can be 
his support when attacked by persecutions and 
all trifling vexations by which he is ordinarily 
surrounded. She points out to him in another 
country the recompense for virtuous genius : the 



GENirS A^D INTELLECT. 239 

palms and the crowns that do not fade away, and 
of which nothing can deprive him. 

Oh ! how a young man endowed with great 
talents, and possessing the principles of genius 
stands in need of a solid religious education ! 
How many favored souls have been crushed, or 
hardened in view of the injustice, jealousy and 
wickedness of men ! Their generous confidence 
wounded by bitter deception has left no place un- 
filled with despondency, or a pride which seeks 
to contend against suffering, and which justifies 
those words of Champfort : "At thirty years 
the heart must be broken or bronzed." 

It would be very wrong to confound genius 
with intellect. The word genius is a generic 
term applicable to the diverse ways of the intel- 
ligent soul, but which has equally a particular 
sense, distinguishing it entirely from genius. The 
characteristic of what one commonly calls the 
mind, is to show up the relations of things, to 
give direction to what one says, and grace to 
what one does. Genius is brilliant, talent is 
showy, the mind sparkles with a hidden but 
light living flame. More akin to imagination 



240 PHYSIOLOGY OF THE WILL. 

than to judgment or good sense, tliat is why 
^'good taste conies more from tlie judgment 
than from the intellect," ^ so it is not best to 
rejoice too much over children, who they say are 
^'j^lein d'esprit." It may be only deceptive, 
and recalls those words of Yauvenargues : "A 
little good sense often causes wit to vanish." 

At the same time we are far from desiring to 
exact in a young man facetious or premature 
gravity which, when it has not the effect of con- 
straint, announces dullness rather than true 
solidity ; some humor always enters into 
excellent natures, and as they have wings to 
soar with, so may their wings mislead them. 
What is usually called " legerete d'esprit " 
is often nothing but the appearance produced 
by the quick movement. " Rapidity in change 
or motion is very different from thoughtless- 
ness, inattention, or superficial judgment." ^ 

In education one never should sacrifice solidity 
to brilliancy ; care must be taken, as La Fon- 
taine said : " Que le bon soit ton jours camarade 
du beau." 

(1) La Rochefoucauld. (2) Pensees de loubert. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

Beauty is tlie splendor of truth, Plato 
says. This thought is very applicable to the 
subject we propose to treat, and of which " belles 
manieres '' should be the expression, the exte- 
rior manifestations, of a beautiful character, 
enlightened by a noble intelligence, and vivified 
by a virtuous heart. It is a species of bodily 
eloquence of which the gift to please, and 
to win hearts, is more than half composed ; 
manners form in the world that amiable quality 
that we call politeness ; and can compensate in 
a great manner for corporeal defects : and may I 
not say, they can, up to a certain point, supply 
that need to those of the mind.^ " It is not suffir-- 
cient that education develop, that she form, and 
elevate only ; like an artist who desires to leave 
nothing unachieved, she carefully polishes. 

(1) Essai sur le beau. 



24:2 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

her work, that she may add that histre 
and grace, which will please and attract. Yes, 
education should polish every faculty of the 
child, the mind, the heart, the manners ; she pol- 
ishes virtue even, which would be, without that 
influence, like a rough diamond, which is 
wanting in brilliancy until all its little faces have 
been polished, through which light must 
shine. Politeness is the flower of humanity ; 
which is not sufliciently polished, neither is it 
sufficiently humane." ^ 

Education, conducted under French discipline, 
possesses that characteristic to a very high 
degree. It is said of a young man without 
politeness, that he is without education : so well 
are they convinced of the importance and happy 
effects of reflned manners ! 

Evidently we are not speaking here of an affec- 
tation of distinguished manners, that worldly gen- 
tility filled with foolishness and falseness ; we 
speak of simple, honest, and engaging manners, 
distinguished by that stamp of good taste, 

(1) Pen sees de loubert. 



MANNERS. 243 

which from the first makes known, a young man 
bien eleve. 

How pleasant are the amiable forms in educa- 
tion, and how their absence obscures the most 
beautiful qualities ! Let us look at a young man 
who belongs to a distinguished family ; for ex- 
ample, he has the consciousness of being perfect- 
ly " comme il faut " in his dress, but of disagree- 
able or woundino^ manners. What a contrast! 
all harmony is broken, that young man is dis- 
pleasing. " Manners that are thought of but little 
consequence," says La Bruyere, " are often the 
criterion by which men judge for or against one ; 
while a slight attention paid to soften and polish 
them would obviate all unfavorable judgment." 

In vain a young man endowed with all this 
world's intelligence, if he has not polished, be- 
coming manners, he will receive severe criticism ; 
he will always be wanting in that heart reflection 
which constitutes tlie true, and only amiability. 

For as the poet has said : 

La politesse est a I'esprit 

Ce que la gr^ce est au visage ; 

De la bonte du coeur elle est la douce image, 

Et c'est la bonte qu'on cherit. 



244 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

True politeness not only avoids all that could 
disoblige, but pays attention to the least thing 
which might please. It is forgetf ulness of one's 
self for others. She extends this feeling to her 
inferiors as well as to her superiors, and even to 
persons who are indifferent to her, with the just 
distinction that age, rank and merit demand. In 
a word, it is a desire to give pleasure to all with 
whom one is obliged to live, and finally in a 
manner to make the world happy around us — our 
superiors by our respect, our equals by our es- 
teem, and our inferiors by our goodness. Two 
qualifications constitute the essence of true po- 
liteness ; it must have love for its principle, and 
truth for its rule. 

One will be astonished perhaps that we make 
love the foundation of politeness. By so doing,one 
seems to transform into a Christian virtue what 
is commonly regarded only as an entirely natural 
quality, belonging to the people of this world. 
Let us not deceive ourselves on* this subject- 
No one is more polite and polished than a young 
man truly religous : that is to say ,wlio shows by hi& 
practice a true idea of what he owes to God and 



CHRISTIANS' POLITENESS. 245 

to liis neighbor. It is easy to understand that 
nothing is more capable to inspire politeness, 
than that Christian spirit which imposes it upon 
us as a duty to love all men, and is the motive 
power by which we are induced to give 
them pleasure. Who was ever more amiable 
than a Francis de Sales, or a Fenelon ^ The 
most simple education, when it has had for 
its basis a profound and enlightened religion, 
will always produce good manners. The man 
who obeys the precepts of the evangelist is 
modest, attentive, full of deference for his 
superiors, and cordiality with his equals. He 
holds no disputes, and the sound of his voice 
has nothing brusque or imperative ; words of be- 
nevolence flow from his lips as pure and limpid as 
water escapes from the rock. From whence are 
drawn these innocent and enticing ways ? From 
the love she bears for her neighbor. Love feels 
no little rivalries ; neither is it susceptible of 
pride, nor the spirit of disdain, which charac- 
terize mere mediocrity ; she shuts her eyes upon 
the weakness of her brothers, exalts their virtues, 

and does not despair for the guiltv ; in a word, 
15 



246 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

her view extends far above, for she sees from on 
high. The politeness of the Christian, then, is 
only the science of little things, but the ex- 
pression, indeed, of a sublime sentiment in her 
principle, and filled with charms in its results. 

The heart is the birth-place of tnie politeness ; 
from thence it communicates itself to the actions, 
words, and linally to the entire demeanor of the 
person ; it regulates the appearance, gestures, the 
impressions upon the countenance, even to the 
style and manner of the body in our carriage, 
diffusing through them amenities, filled wdth 
attention, complaisance and regard which give 
to society its charm. What power does it not 
give to the young man, also, to influence those 
by whom he is surrounded ! How favorably it 
disposes them ! "It is by attractive manners 
and delicate attentions combined with the tact 
to discern when to be silent, or when to speak 
a propos, to devise the fitness requisite on all oc- 
casions, that the hearts of those with whom we 
live are to be won." ^ 

"It can be said that politeness is the express- 

(1) Saint Lambert. 



TRUE POLITENESS. 247 

ion or imitation of social virtues ; it is the 
expression of them, if honestly felt ; and the 
imitation,only when adopted merely for outside 
appearance ; then it is false." ^ 

But we speak here of that true politeness those 
ought to have who preserve truth as their rule. 

'' There is no exterior sign of politeness which 
may not have a moral principle. A good educa- 
tion will be that which can give both the ap- 
pearance and the principle." ^ 

No one can be more polished in appearance 
than certain persons in the world who j)ride 
themselves upon their delicatesse and savoir- 
vivre, which are on their part nothing but pro- 
testations of friendship and compliments given 
through offered services, than which, ordinarily, 
nothing is more deceitful or less solid : lying 
demonstrations of sentiments that they do not 
possess, with evidences as much less sincere as 
they are more exaggerated. In place of sentiment 
filled with real affection or devotion, they sub- 
stitute far-fetched expressions, affected manners, 

(1) Duclos, considerations sur les moeurs. 

(2) Goethe. 



248 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

and frivolous ceremonies by which they desire 
to mislead others ; if it be genuine, politeness 
makes the man ; exterior appearances are simply 
the index of the character he bears about with- 
in himself." ^ It is not less true to say of those 
persons, that in reality they are by no means as 
polite as they appear. 

It is painful to see parents sometimes inspire 
their children, when very young, with that affecta- 
tion of manners which is most disagreeable to 
see under any circumstances, and positively intol- 
erable in youth. Christian politeness is always 
true, is always the enemy of artifice and guile : 
nothing forced or constrained abides with her ; all 
is easy, simple, natural, because it is the ex- 
pression of noble frankness, a thousand times 
more amiable than the flattering language and 
affected airs and manners of certain classes in 
society. 

We are far from condemning accustomed usa- 
ges received in society, and even manners of 
speech which often seem exaggerated but of which 
every one understands the true sense and which 

(1) La Bruyere. 



MAXXERS AN ART. 249 

are in use with the most estimable people. At 
the same time Saint Francis de Sales, who knew 
what the accej^ted usages of good society were, 
was not pleased to hear prolonged compliments, 
eulogistic phrases, too often void of sense and that 
were given and received Init to which was attached 
no real importance : he looked upon them as 
embarrassing to those who made them and oner- 
ous to those who were obliged to listen to them. 

Let us remember tliat if beauty is the splendor 
of truth, elegant manners should be the mani- 
festation of our truthful sentiments. 

We have said enough to show the high impor- 
tance attached to manners in the education of 
youth. In the midst of so many objects of pure 
fancy introduced in instruction why is there not 
more effort made to teach this precious art? 

For manners are an art. There are perfect 
manners, as also those which are praiseworthy 
and those that are false, but there are none that 
may be classed as indifferent. How is it, that 
amongst us we have no precepts to instinict us in 
this art ? The knowledge of manners would be 
more important to the happiness and to the 



250 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

virtue of man than is usually believed. "If virtue 
conduces to exterior proprieties, they in turn 
also conduce to virtue ; manners are the reflection 
of good morals. Let us then cultivate lovely 
manners, simple and becoming." ^ 

III. 

But by what means are we to acquire these 
becoming and distinguished manners ? The 
best method, the most prompt and in fact the 
only one, is to frequent the society of those who 
possess them. It is scarcely credible with what 
facility children imitate the tone of voice, the 
air and demeanor of those under whose care they 
are placed ; for this reason it is most necessary 
that all those who occupy themselves in giving 
instruction should be models of good manners. 

Students will insensibly contract the manners, 
tones, and polish of their masters. 

"Politeness follows usages and received customs ; 
it is attached to times, places, and persons ; it is 
not the same for both sexes or f oi' different condi- 
tions ; the mind alone cannot divine it, it must 

(1) P^nsees de loubert. 



POLITENESS AT HOME. 251 

be followed by imitation, and one shonld strive 
to perfect himself in it/' ^ 

Education applies itself iirst of all to that 
which is essential, commencing at its source : and 
when slie has formed the mind and the heart, 
from whence all good manners How naturally, 
will not this explain the impoliteness of certain 
young students ? could they well be otherwise ? 
their manners are the faithful expression of their 
hearts : they are as disagreeable as their hearts are 
bad. Who cannot understand by this " that the 
exact observance of proprieties is the mark at 
the same time of a good mind and of a good educa- 
tion « " ' 

It is in the family that the child should always 
exert itself to show that amiability which pro- 
ceeds from a true sentiment of affection. Alas ! 
one treats with extreme negligence a father, a 
mother, or relatives and friends whose existence 
ought to be made happy by tlie most ten- 
der care, wliile all thouglitful attentions 
are reserved for strangers. This is a great 
wrong : you may perhaps excuse your neglect by 

(1) La Bruy^re. (2) Madame Voillez. 



252 EDUCATION OF THE MANNERS. 

saying; "but they know that I love thim, there 
is no need of my giving such proof to them." 

That all may be possible, but you who are oblig- 
ed to love them from the very nature of things, 
is there no necessity to say the same to them at 
least by your uniformly respectful conduct? 

If one dare to object that it is not convenient, 
my reply to him would be : there is no time to 
seek repose from the noble fatigue of being good, 
amiable and gentle, but during the hours of 
sleep. As to the details of deportment, and the 
different rules of politeness which are necessary 
to observe, it would not be expected of us to 
occupy ourselves here. We will only remark 
that at an early age children should be taught 
them, before they have been left to imbibe un- 
pleasant manners. 

It is easy to modify the manners in youth; but 
later it will become difficult . A shrub may be 
cultivated without trouble, and that direction 
given to its growth which best suits your desire. 

If it leans too much you raise it up again : if 
it is crooked you straighten it ; you sepra'ate itfc 



AS THE TWIG IS BENT. 253 

branches, and give them any form or direction 
jou wish ; flexible and docile, it readily yields 
under the skillful hand of the gardener to whom 
its care is g^iven. But what would he be able to 
do should he wait until the stem became strong 
and knotty, and so to speak intractable ? and 
when age has hardened its coarse exterior and 
shall have taken away all its flexibility, will 
there be time still to straighten its distorted 
branches and give grace to its limbs ? Xo, that is 
impossible ; you would break rather than change 
its direction. This example holds good with a 
child and during his whole life he will be sub- 
jected to the influence of those manners that he 
was permitted to be taught in his infancy, and 
above all in his youth. 



CHAPTER X. 

CONVERSATION. 
I. 

"It is not always," says Plutarch, "in famous 
exploits that the virtues or vices of men show 
themselves most : an ordinary action, a word, a 
jest often makes known the true character better 
than bloody battles, sieges or memorable actions." 

In social relations, through conversation, we 
often judge of the education a young man has 
received. 

A writer full of tact and experience has said 
that the art of conversation would make a very 
interesting subject for the pen.^ 

In fact conversation occupies so large a part 
of our existence that it should not only present 
a happy distraction, a pleasure to life, but also 
the occasion to produce good, to instruct and 
render us better. 

(1) De Gerando; perfectionnement moral. 



SHOULD BE A COMMEECE. 255 

The mind and heart will always find it advan- 
tageous to them ; in this manner they can possess 
an excellent means of education. To converse 
and to understand knowledge, above all, 
according to Plato, makes up the happiness- 
of private life. 

Conversation is a mutual discourse between 
two or more persons. "It is a commerce : if you 
enter there, without funds, the commerce cannot 
take place." ^ 

At the same time, that funds of knowledge and 
ideas are necessary to bring with you does not re- 
quire at all, after the example of certain persons^ 
that one prepare in advance the subject upon 
which to speak. Where would be the simplicity ? 

That which should animate first of all an 
entertainment is a spontaneous, unrestrained in- 
terchange of sentiments, brilliancy of repartee, 
the charm of a-23ropos : finally, brilliancy 
shown or pleasure given must emanate from 
within the individual, and not be a loan made on 
another mind of which each one may dispute 
with you the ownership. 

(1) Sterne. 



256 CONVERSATION. 

How many things, says one, in conversing upon 
a subject, would not be thought of even, if we 
limited ourselves to the knowledge alone without 
speaking upon it. Thought becomes animat- 
ed, the mind is warmed up, and the heat produ- 
ces that which could not be drawn from its light. 

A word has wings, and is carried where one 
could not go by simple reflection. 

So that conversation be made agreeable, you 
must know how to give variety to the subject, 
how to adapt yourself to one just commenc- 
ing, without putting upon the tapis in its 
full force the idea wdth which you are filled 
and the specialty with which you are occupied. 

La Fontaine says of himself : " Diversity is 
my desire," which may as properly be used in 
regard to conversation. 

One should speak simply, and justly, founded 
on reason, w^ithout too much vivacity, but with, 
warmth, should the subject demand it ; avoiding 
the tone of superiority and sharpness which 
causes discussion to degenerate into dis- 
pute . Great talkers render conversation fatigu- 
ing, as long narrations absorb all the time. 



MUST BE SPONTANEOUS. 25T 

One is much more appreciated in speaking 
but little, and saying that little well. He who 
does not know how to be silent, will never obtain 
the ascendancy . In the mean time one must 
not assume the air of attaching too high a price 
to his words, and never leaving any to escape 
without parsimony and only at rare intervals. 

The same may be said of the affected modera- 
tion that certain persons have who desire to use 
care in the formation of their phrase . It is 
much better to speak incorrectly, and speak a little 
faster, in following the natural species of 
talent, temper of mind and character. A style 
too exact is not at all adapted to conversation : 
where a certain abandon should always reign, 
without too much negligence, but accompanied 
with just thoughts, and great propriety. 

That a young man may not be wanting in 
these rules, he must be inspired with the desire 
to abandon all manner of pleasantries which 
would lead to jesting or practical jokes, too easi- 
ly adopted in youth, but w^hich lead to a 
detestable habit. 

A refined and delicate pleasantry which agree- 



258 CONVERSATION. 

ably stimulates without wounding, seasons the 
conversation, animates it and diffuses throughout 
a graceful gayetj ; nevertheless we are better 
pleased to say : '' We prefer one sensible re- 
mark to all epigrams and iinesse d'esprit." ^ 

What more misplaced, than jesting and 
joking, that species of merry Andrew, which 
excites a gross and entirely material laugh, so 
estranged from delicacy and dignity of soul ! 

Surely this can only change in a young man 
his sentiments of beauty, the end of whose stud- 
ies are to develop it. 

II. 

What then are the means to form a young 
man in this most charming and useful art ? 

It is with conversational style as with epistolary 
style : if one require a receipt for writing letters 
with success, there is but one answer to make to 
him : " You must possess mind, amiability and 
natural talents." 

The same language may be used to him who 
wishes to know the secret to converse well, only, 

(1) J. J. Rousseau. 



COMES FROM INTERCOURSE. 259 

as example is above all, and especially on this 
point much more efficacious than any precepts, 
we will say that the principal thing to do, is to 
put a young man at an early hour in connection 
with those persons whose conversation is both 
distinguished and spiritual ; that he be intro- 
duced into well-chosen society, where mind and 
talent are admitted not only, Ijut honored and 
respected : where they do not, however, predomi- 
nate, for here, virtue and the heart should make 
the law. Then he will be formed and enlight- 
ened by contact with others ; but he will remain 
barren and fruitless amongst people uncultured 
and unamiable. Why, then, in the actual socie- 
ty of to-day, is frivolity valued at such a degi'ee, 
for little else than to play, listen to music, and 
to pass a tumultuous evening tilled with dissipa- 
ting pleasure? The charm of conversation is 
very little understood. What has been the 
cause of such a lamentable change ? 

Is it not the effect of a light and superficial 
mind, and that poverty of heart, which, before 
all else, seeks for pleasure? It is the heart 
above all which should make conversation love- 



260 CONVERSATION. 

Ij, and bring to it sweetness, attracted by virtue 
and uniting them with affection which gives 
such a price to social relations. The best means 
to appear amiable, is to evince a loving disposi- 
tion. Alas ! we no longer live as a family. 
The parents all regard the day as lost, 
when some new pleasure does not come to tear 
them from tlie domestic hearth, teaching their 
children to attach no value to home and evenings, 
where each one haying fulfilled the duties of the 
day comes to find relaxation and repose in inti- 
mate interchange of thoughts and words : where 
heart speaks to heart, where a peace-giving caress, 
from a dear son, when the projects, not of 
ambition but of tenderness, endeavor to arrange 
for the future the possibility of living always 
together. These delights of the domestic hearth 
exist no more ; either must you receive a frivo- 
lous and insignificant crowd at home, or go to 
seek amongst others a distraction which may 
make you to forget that time is passing on, and 
with it leading us. It is evident that levity of 
mind, a character which seems to predominate 
in our midst, absolutely prevents us from appre- 



THE AKT OF LISTENING. 261 

elating as we ought tlie pleasures of conversation. 
The mania to criticise every turn, or the detesta- 
ble habit of passing censure upon all subjects ad- 
vanced, changes conversation into a veritable tor- 
ment. " To write w^ould be a hundred times less 
painful than conversing with those people who 
are perpetually occupied in throwing coal-dust 
upon all that you think and all that you say. 
They make you sick. With them no relaxation 
is enjoyable. You must encounter a mental 
tilt, wrangle, or combat \" There are others 
whose every response opposes one with an evi- 
dent objection. The most persuasive language is 
to them like oil flowing on marble, and when they 
speak, their obdurate mind is like a hammer 
whose only effect is to break. 

" One reason why so few people make them- 
selves agreeable in conversation, is because there 
is scarcely one person who is not rather think- 
ing what he will say than to answer directly 
the one who is speaking to him. The most skill- 
ful and the most complaisant content themselves 
by only showing an attentive manner ; at the 

(1) Pensees de loubert. 
17 



262 CONVERSATION. 

same time one can see in their eyes, and the play 
upon the countenance a certain indifference to 
what is being said and a great anxiety to return 
to that subject upon which they desired most to 
speak. 

" We should consider that when we seek so 
much to please ourselves, the means are question- 
able to say the least by which we strive to please 
and persuade others ; let us remember, that to 
listen well, and answer well, is one of the great- 
est perfections one can possess in conversation \" 
Attention is a tacit and continual eulogy. 

" Let those who are occupied in bringing up the 
young," says Plutarch, "teach them to be care- 
ful listeners, and make them feel they must pay 
silent attention to what is said by others, and 
seldom speak themselves." This, then, is one of 
the greatest requirements of politeness, and above 
all is this true of youth. 

How very few people know how to listen ! 
How rare it is to meet with that indulgence and 
that attention which promote thought, that 

(1) Trublet, essais de litterature et de morale. 



THE ART OF LISTENING. 263 

which render intercourse with one another so 
facile and attractive ! It is, however, incontes- 
table that " l'esj)rit " of conversation consists 
much less in showing it in oneself than to 
make an effort to find it in others. " The one 
that goes out from your entertainment content 
with himself and his intelligence, naturally is 
perfectly pleased with you." ^ 

The modest man always gives pleasure because 
he is careful never to wound another, and he 
loves to show the merits of those in the midst of 
whom he finds himself. He loves to admit, at 
least en passant, the thoughts and sentiments 
of others who have shown him their willing- 
ness to treat him with hospitality. He knows 
how to enter into their ideas ; and how to bear 
himself when differing from them, as well as he 
knows how to leave his own and return there 
again. " A great talent for conversation requires 
the accompanying degree of politeness ; and those 
who show this superiority over othei*s, are bound 
to secure great respect to themselves." ^ 

(1) La Bruyere. 

(3) Trublet, essais de litterature et de morale. 



264 CONVERSATION. 

Ill 

There are men who are considered well 
educated, but who do not possess any conversa- 
tional talent. In some it arises from an 
incomplete education, in others from a certain 
indolence of character which makes no effort to 
please. In conversation La Fontaine appeared 
stupid ; J. J. Rousseau confessed his inability 
in lively repartee, and that he never found his 
response but at the foot of the stairs ; Corneille 
kept silent, or was careless in this particular, 
and accused himself of speaking badly. 

" J'ai la plume feconde et la bouche sterile, et 
conviens qu'on ne pent m'ecouter sans ennui que 
quand je me produis par la bouche d'autrui." 

Besides general conversation, there is a more 
special manner to entertain, by that amiable inter- 
course in which the soul abandons itself to the 
pleasure of intimacy. It is then, between two 
persons who know how to understand each oth- 
er, and whose minds are cultivated, that the 
heart expands, and tlie mind is elevated ; the 
most difficult questions are debated, and brought 
to the light ; then when thoughts and sentiments 



SHOULD BE A DELIGHT. 265 

are mingled indiscriminately, and interchanged 
with one another, thej return better and 
more instructive. The conversation of an elder- 
ly man brings lessons of wisdom and experience 
to the young man ; that of a virtuous woman 
filled with tact and propriety, instructs him in the 
most delicate politeness, and in the graceful use 
of language. The intimate conversation of his 
own age, when it is well chosen, may procure 
for him the most salutary counsel, because 
it is received with more confidence. 

How is it we do not comprehend all utility 
and satisfaction that such a relation produces 
upon the mind and heart ? Most assuredly we 
do not speak of conversations like those of I'hotel 
de Rambouillet. Those were too full of affecta- 
tion, and La Bruyere has spoken very wittily 
upon this subject : " Is it so great an evil to 
speak as all the world speaks ? " 

But how advantageous it would be for us still, 
as in the last century, to have those agreeable reun- 
ions when conversation was one of the greatest 
pleasures of a well chosen and literary society: 
a picture that the society of to-day may look in 
vain for, if not in memory ! 



CHAPTEE XI. 

THE AET OF SPEAKING WELL. 

Undoubtedly many will be astonished that we 
should introduce here an art so nearly 
allied to that of manners. We only re- 
gret that the limits of this work force us to 
treat in such a rapid manner a subject which offers 
so much interest. 

The beauty of the French language, and the 
superiority of our nation in matters of scrupulous 
nicety and good taste, are incontestable facts. 
How does it happen then, that in the greater part 
of our houses of education, so few apply them- 
selves to discipline young people in the art of 
speaking well ? Who does not know the charm of 
an agreable conversation, or a natural and well 
meaning diction ? There is no person but can 
appreciate a correct, elegant, and expressive 
reader. 

The art of speaking well, be it in conversation, 
or be it simply reading in a loud voice, should de- 



A DESIRABLE ACCOMPLISHMENT. 267 

mancl its proper place in instrnction. What 
did not Demosthenes, Cicero, and many others 
do to render themselves perfect in this art ! 

But, one will say, these lessons only make 
public speakers, who make a forced genius 
for themselves in trying to imitate pronuncia- 
tion, tone and gesture, and tlms lose all that is 
natural. No, the art of which we speak 
is not an imitation ; one must here, as in every 
other part of education, take his own nature to 
perfect, to develop, to put m play all its resour- 
ces, and make it show all its capacity. And 
this end cannot be attained without serious and 
persevering effort. 

All young people, endowed with the usual 
complement of talent, should come out from 
their studies in a suitable condition to speak be- 
fore an assembly, and receive at least a certain 
degree of approbation ; and without doubt they 
may in a measure become orators. What effect 
will a young man produce upon those who listen 
to him, if he does not know how to animate his 
thoughts, to give life to his sentiments, by the 
inflexions of his voice, the expressions of his face, 



268 HOW TO SPEAK AVELL. 

and the variety of his gestures ? For " here is no 
less eloquence in the tone of the voice, in the look 
of the eyes, and in the personal carriage, than in 
the choice of words. ^ " It easy to conceive how 
much the physiognomy of the orator adds to a 
discourse, by the instinctive necessity one feels 
to see him, however perfectly he may be 
heard. Kot only every ear, but still more every 
eye is directed towards him who speaks. " The 
ancients considered the action as a very impor- 
tant part of eloquence ; they have carried the 
magic knowledge of utterance or delivery to 
a degree of j)erfection of which we probably 
have no conception, at least if w^e judge by the 
astounding effect attributed to them.^ " 

Do we not frequently see, says Cicero, orators 
of ordinary talents carry off all the honors 
for eloquence, through the merit only of action ; 
while orators otherwise skilled in their pro- 
fession, passed for mediocres, because they had 
not the talent for action l^ He refers to the judg- 
ment of Demosthenes, who gives to this merit the 

(1) La Rochefoucauld. (3) Orator Ch. 8th. 

(2) Le Cardinal Maury. 



ACTiox. 269 

first, second, and third rank in tlie art of oratory. 
He adds : "If eloquence is nothing without ac- 
tion, and action, divested of eloquence, has such 
force and efficiency, its extreme importance in 
speaking must be confessed." 

Quintilian did not fear to say; "I readily 
affirm that an inferior discourse, well sustained 
by the power of action, produces a greater effect 
than the best discourse, unsupported by ges- 
tures." 

That is easy to understand. The hearer finds 
himself surprised and delighted by the charm of 
an agreeable voice, by a noble pose of the body, 
or by an animated countenance. He himself 
anticipates his theories, he feels his nerves start, 
his feelings are in a tumult, he is enchanted, he is 
indignant, he is overcome, he yields, or he assumes 
an unwonted degree of dignity under the power 
of the speaker ; in fact he surrenders to him all 
the faculties of his soul. 

In 1821, M. Berryer was in the habit of hold- 
ing a weekly reunion at the Sorbonne for the 
law students of Paris, is order to give them les- 
sons in the theory and practice of legal eloquence, 



270 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. 

at the bar. At the openin^^ of this interesting 
conrse, he announced to his mimerous pupils that 
he was iirst going to try to teacli them how to read» 
Seeing in his audience a inovenient of sur- 
prise and even some smiles, he said : " I knew 
well, gentlemen, I should surprise you and ex- 
cite your laughter, in announcing lessons in learn- 
ing to read ; for, notwithstanding I have not the 
honor of your acquaintance, I am convinced there 
are very few amongst you who know how to read 
well. You understand I do not speak here of a 
mere materially made reader, recto tono / no, it 
is of an expressive and feeling reader I desire 
to speak ; of a reader who prepares himself in 
advance, and who strives to render himself agree- 
able and attractive by the charms of debate." 

Having said this, M. Berryer selected an ex- 
tract from one of the Barristers of Linguet, and 
designated three of the pupils, taken indifferent- 
ly, to prepare themselves to read the coming 
week. 

" I have chosen this extract," said he, " be- 
cause I regard it as a chef-d'oeuvre of finesse in 
grace and delicacy. If it is well read, you will 



THE ART OF READING. 271 

find in it flashes of wit that will delight you ; if 
it is indifferently read, you will see nothing to 
excite your interest ; on the contrary, it will 
fatigue you to listen to it." 

Eight days then passed ; every thing was made 
ready for the new reunion. Great curiosity wa& 
experienced to see the issue of this proof. The 
reading became very long and tiresome, produc- 
ing only ennui. M. Berryer after having shown 
the defects in the diction of each of the students, 
took the book saying : 

^'Am I deceived then gentlemen, in the 
beauties that I believed were contained in this 
tract, and cannot they be made apparent? 
Let us see." 

Then, said a witness to this scene, commenced 
a reading of which here I am not able to give 
the most faint idea. I do not believe the sub- 
lime speaker had accomplished the reading of 
one entire phrase, before provoking an indescrib- 
able clapping of hands and stamping of feet, 
joined to the most enthusiastic applause. Each 
word was made to express its exact meaning. A 
few moments' suspension of the voice would 



■^72 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. 

announce some beautiful lines, whose spirit, 
when it came to be understood, would delight 
every one. 

The hand unoccupied by the book seemed 
to conduct the words to the soul of the listener, 
and one penetrating glance from his eye buried 
and engraved them there. We never till then 
S£» profoundly felt all the power a good delivery 



All those who have heard the R. P. Lacord- 
aire knew what an extraordinary charm was ad- 
ded to the merit of his conferences, I should 
say the enchantment almost of his oratorical 
action. 

Father Bernard, a celebrated preacher, was 
often solicited in his old age to have his sermons 
published, but he constantly refused, saying, 
and not without good sense ; " I readily consent, 
if you will at the same time publish the 
expression of the preacher." 

So much did his delivery add to the value of 
his sermons ! All men who have had any ex- 
perience in oratorical art, are unanimous with 
the ancients, in their opinions of the power of 



READING AKD DELIVERY. 2Y& 

action. It is that which gives the highest im- 
portance to a course of which diction is the 
object. 

II. 

But if there are houses of education where 
this art necessarily demands a special cultivation 
it is certainly in seminaries where young men 
from the nature of their studies have put them- 
selves in a condition to persuade men in order 
to make them better. In these houses there are 
the most urgent motives, the greatest facility in 
means, and finally the most worthy end in view 
that this world can present. 

For this reason all who understand the impor- 
tance of education in theological seminaries have 
a lively desire that in these houses particular at- 
tention should be given and care taken in read- 
ing and delivery. This will be the only means 
to remove certain much-to-be regretted defects 
in the pronunciation of many young men who 
come in from the country to study well this awk- 
wardness and want of easy, natural manners, that 
they would not have, perhaps, had they been ac- 



274 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. 

customed to a social and easy style of conversa- 
tion. It appears to ns, above all in small semi- 
naries, that a course of diction^ would be a study 
entirely indispensable. 

Is there anything more saddening and less 
worthy of the inestimable grandeur and value 
of truth, than the false monotonous tone of some 
bawling, coarse declaimers, so-called orators? 
All charm is lost by their voices, and the most 
beautiful discourse will become trifling and in- 
sipid when delivered by them. 

C'est en vain qu'un docteur qui preche I'evangile 

M^le chretiennement I'agreable a I'utile ; 

S'il n'a point un beau gerte a I'art de bien parler, 

Si dans tout son dehors il ne sait se regies, 

Sa voix ne charme plus, sa phrase n'est plus belles ; 

D^s I'exorde j'ai pire a la vie eternelle: 

Et dormant quel-que-fois sans interruption, 

Je recois en sursant sa benediction, ~ 

Beside, it is necessary that every person should 
know how to read well. It is an extremely rare 
talent,however ; you are unquestionably safe in af 
firming that among a hundred students having ter- 
minated their classical studies, five or six only at 
the most know how to read in a satisfactory 

(1) Le P. Vanlecque, chanoine regulier de sainte-gene- 
vi^ve. 

(2) In the larger seminaries a course of diction is made 
a part of the course of sacred eloquence. 



ART CONCEALS ART. 275 

manner. From what does this defect in educa- 
tion arise ? From the little importance attached 
to giving children at an early age the habit of 
distinct pronunciation, in a correct tone of voice, 
and with intellio:ent delivery. 

We have no desire to make comedians, nor to 
attempt to inspire young people with ridiculous 
pretension, or affected precision. On the con- 
trary, all art consists in concealing itself in 
order to show yourself natural, easy, true, but at 
the same time agreeable, even in all things. 

Rien n'est beau que le vrai ; le vrai seul est 
aimable. Neither is it to be deceived with regard 
to the real value of things, but to search for it 
in reading or oratorical delivery, to bring to 
light its hidden thoughts and style; it would 
be to have a very absurd idea of education that 
would by a misdirected love of simplicity, 
cause to be neglected the graces of diction, in 
simple reading or delivery. 

D'un debit lieureux rinnoceute imposture, 
Sans la detigurer embellit la nature; 
Et les traits que sa muse eternise en ses chants, 
Recetes avec art enresout plus touchants : 
lis laisseront dans I'ame une trace durable. 



276 HOW TO SPEAK WELL. 

D'un genie eloquent empreinte inalterable; 

Et sein ne plaira plus a tous les gouts divers 

Qu'un organe charmant, dirant bien, de beaux ac'^ * 

The best means to cultivate this art de hien 
dire is to read with care a literary passage, and 
require them to repeat it until they shall fully 
comprehend its different shades of meaning. 

" In this manner they will learn to relate, not 
to recite. From the time the child commences 
to read fluently, never permit him to pronounce 
in a loud voice, nor recite by heart a piece with- 
out having spoken and repeated it sef eral times 
to him, with all the precision you are capable of 
manifesting, having previously explained to him 
what would be likely to embarrass his limited 
intelligence. Have no misgivings ; the child, a 
born imitator, wdll finish by reproducing your 
tone, your gestures, your expressions of voice,, 
and sometimes will give expression even to the 
most delicate shades of meaning contained in the 
sentiments you have expressed."^ 

(1) Francois de Neufchateau. (2) Descuret. 



CHAPTEE XII. 

EXTERIOR GRACES. 
I. 

We have spoken snccessivelj of politeness, 
conversation, and diction : but it is evident that 
the three qualities united are necessary to produce 
grace in the exterior. They form in a thoroughly 
educated young man a harmonious combination 

which recalls to mind the three graces, under 
which emblem the ancients have left us charm- 
ing and useful lessons. 

Socrates, the most ingenious Philosopher of 
antiquity, caused to be exposed in the citadel of 
Athens, at the entrance of the temple of Minerva, 
a picture which represents them. He sent his 
Disciples there to learn the secret of the graces at 
the school, of the graces themselves. Indeed in 
the presence of these symbolic representations 
they had only to ask themselves why each part 
represented some especial trait or idea, and the 
answer was made to comprehend every philoso- 
phical attraction and charm. 
18 



278 EXTERIOR GRACES. 

Why are the graces made in sucli a tall, slen- 
der and finished manner ? It is because harmony 
does not consist in grandeur, neither precisely 
in extreme regularity even, but in something 
refined and delicate. 

Why do they hold each other by the hand ? 
It is because the most beautiful qualities disunit- 
ed cannot form a whole, capal)le of ^^iving pleas- 
ure to us for any length of time. Why are they 
always laughing 'i Because nothing is more op- 
posed to gracefulness than a sad and sombre air. 

But why are they iuA^ariably rej^resented as 
young ? It is not to exclude from their empire 
the other ages of human life, but to show to us 
that they rejuvenate all by their natural charms. 
It is not necessary to ask why they are portrayed 
modestly ; they are supposed to be virgins, oth- 
erwise Minerva would have cast them out of her 
Temple. Still less is it necessary to ask why 
they are so decorously draped, for decorum is 
the essence of gracefulness.^ Uj)on this model 
a young man's politeness, conversational talent, 
and diction, should be founded. The applica- 

(1) Essai sur le beau. 



OLD AGE MADE ATTRACTIVE. 279 

tion is easy, for in this manner only will he 
become perfected in graceful manners. 

In these three qualiiications which serve to 
form our manners, it is much less granduer 
and talent which we should show than a delicate 
and wise choice. They must l)e united, for what 
will politeness accomplish without conversa- 
tion ? and would the latter, unaccompanied with 
diction, possess any grace ? 

They should be smiling and agreeable that 
they may present themselves under the most 
amiable appearance ; without which they have 
no power to please. 

Finally it can be said that they rejuvenate all. 
Yes, affable and dignified manners, accompanied 
by tact and good taste, give even to the most 
advanced age an extraordinary grace — however 
grave — which delights, attracts and inspires 
respect. " Politeness removes wrinkles from 
the face.'-^ 

What charming society does that make of those 
advanced in age who have preserved noble 
and agreeable manners ! They resemble trees, 

(1) Pensees de loubert. 



280 EXTERIOR GRACES. 

that though charged with years, still offer 
flowers, graceful and beautiful, like the ground 
arbutus, which encircles the environs, with this 
difference only that their fruit is more abundant. 
I will only add that the deportment should be 
modest and becoming ; this character is so prop- 
erly their own, that La Harpe has said : " Pro- 
priety is the safe-guard to public morals." 



II. 



There is one exterior qualification which denotes 
more than most believe — I'esprit de convenance 
— or a becoming style of dress — in the character 
of a young man, and which, furthermore, is so 
closely allied to grace of manner, that we feel 
little disposed to omit some mention of it — that 
is the selection made in dress in order to be 
well clothed. 

The man who is disposed to seek every means 
to distinguish himself, ought not to disregard or 
omit to pay proper attention to the accessories of 
distinction ; always simple, but at the same time 
becoming, he must discern what he owes to 
others, and to his own age, rank, and position. 



THE APPAKEL. 281 

He has too much excellence in his character, not 
to observe a corresponding comparison in his 
external appearance. It is true that while he 
should not follow the fashions with too much 
exactness, still he must always avoid shocking 
them, at least so that his appearance may not sub- 
ject him to ridicule. 

To make one's self its slave, belongs to those 
lazy and vain coxcombs who imagine they will 
be able to redeem their nothingness by using ex- 
treme care in their toilet ; but to affect a different 
style of dress from others denotes a proud, opin- 
ionated, censuring spirit, and one wanting in tact. 
You must be a La Fontaine to be tolerated in 
wearing your clothes wrong side out. To con- 
clude, good taste in order to harmonize with the 
respect we owe ourselves and others calls for a 
proper and becoming dress relieved by a modest 
elegance. The fop adorns himself, but the wise 
man dresses himself, and " in the matter of or- 
naments," Montesquieu says, " always limit your- 
self within your means." " Genuine grace," 
says Fenelon, ''does not depend upon vain and ef- 
fective ornament. It is true you can seek clean- 



282 EXTERIOR GRACES. 

liness, proportion and symmetrical elegance in 
the garments necessary to cover the body. 
But after all, the stuffs which we use for cloth- 
ing ourselves and which we may make both 
convenient and agreeable, can never be the orna- 
ments which give true beauty." 

'' A wise man leaves his tailor to select a suit- 
able style for him ; there is as much weakness 
shown in ignoring the fashions, as there is in 
affecting them."^ 

The continual change to which, in part at 
least, a sensible man is obliged to submit, is 
a very disagreeable thing indeed. " Fashion 
destroys herself, she aims always at perfection, 
and never tinds it, at least she is never sat- 
isfied when it is found. She would be reason- 
able if she changed only to change no more, af- 
ter having found convenience and gracefulness ; 
but to change for an unceasing change, is it not 
rather inconstancy and derangement they seek, 
than true polish and good taste ? Thus, ordina- 
rily, there is nothing but caprice in the fashions."* 

(1) La Bruy^re. (2) Fenelon. 



LET THE CORE BE SOUND. 283 

• Nevertheless, it is a necessity to which one must 
submit. There are the rudiments of propriety, 
therefore, with whicli from an early age young 
people must be inspired, for they will form 
in them that grace of exterior whose influence 
upon the relations of society are so great, where 
one may say a good mien is power. 

At the same time let us never forget that it is 
in vain we cultivate, ornament, and polish the 
form, if the foundation is wanting, if the intelli- 
gence be not enlightened, and if the heart is not 
good. 

Innocence, virtue, and religion — always neces- 
sarily combined with a good education — still 
these virtues form the superstructure upon which 
all we possess which is beautiful must be 
founded. 

" A child that has preserved up to twenty 
years his innocence, is at that age the best and 
the most amiable of men."^ 

(1) J. J. Rousseau. 



CHAPTER XIIL 

THE CHARACTEK. 
I 

When education has exerted its influence upon 
all the faculties, and in following the orders of 
nature she has developed them in a just propor- 
tion, there is produced over the entire being of 
the child a general effect, a deep and abiding 
influence,a moral stamp which distinguishes what 
is called the character/ " It is " says Yoltaire 
" what nature has engraved in us." This defi- 
nition is incomplete, for it does not acknowledge 
the effect of education, neither the notable 
modifications she would produce on some 
natures. 

Without referring here to the different ways 
in which this subject has been defined, -we 

(1) Ce mot, d'apres I'etymologie Grecque x(^P<^^^VP 
signifie empreinte, figure, marque particuliere ; et ce 
sens transporte au moral a produit le nom de caractere, 
dont il est ici question. 



INDIVrDUALITY IN CHILDREN. 285 

believe we shall give an exact notion of it by 
saying that the character is the physiognomy of 
the soul. 

Indeed, when looking upon a large gathering 
of children, I see that each one has his own 
physiognomy, an assemblage of traits which are 
wholly different from every other. They may 
resemble each other, but the resemblance will 
never be perfect. Always some shade of differ- 
ence in the expression, be it in the look, be it in 
the lips, be it in the entire face, a distinction 
will be estabHshed. Tlien it is the same of 
character, and if I could penetrate the exterior 
envelope, I should see that the soul of each one of 
these children has a physiognomy, an individual 
expression in each child. That is cliaracter. As 
many varieties as there are in the face, so many 
are there in this interior physiognomy, with this 
difference that the embellishments of the traits 
which strike the eye, depend very little upon 
us, while we might work very effectually 
to modify, to embellish our own character, 
and also those of the children over whom we are 
placed. 



286 THE CHARACTER. 

We may add, that as far as the sonl is supe- 
rior to the body, so much more is the beauty 
that we call its physios^nomy, superior to it& 
physique. Now we see how, above all other 
considerations, we are brought to attach the 
greatest value to a beautiful character. 

When we think of the extraordinary influence 
that the character has upon the whole life of a 
man, it is evident to see that in it is found the 
principle source of his merits or demerits, of 
his happiness or his misery. If the one 
from whom the chief sum of human happiness 
has been removed here below, would write day 
by day his life impressions and vicissitudes, it 
would be an exceedingly useful collection or 
diary : one would certainly see there that the 
character contributes more to happiness than all 
other things combined ; it is a certainty that 
health and fortune, however good they may be 
in themselves, are not indispensible to our happi- 
ness, that tlieir absence alone is not necessarily 
an irreparable misfortune, and that a beautiful 
character offers to the unfortunate the happiest 
recompensation. " The supreme goodness of 



THE MAN OF CHARACTER. 28T 

God," says Pope, " has put onr happiness into- 
our own hands : it depends upon our character." 

Let us examine society with a little attention,, 
and we shall see that above all the character of 
the man exerts over others more or less a great 
influence. 

" Le character est dans le monde, 
Un pouvoir plus sur que I'esprit." ^ 

In fact, he who is capable to give a just esti- 
mate of well formed characters, is one w^ho has 
received the impress of an education where 
nothing has been neglected, where each faculty 
has received assiduous care, and which has con- 
tributed its complement of light, of virtue, and 
of moral beauty, to this admirable ensemblage 
from which results a complete character, truly 
made for the happiness and ornamentation of 
society. Yes, an accomplished character inspires 
such a lively interest, makes its sweet empire 
felt in such a manner, and presents something 
so amiable that it is almost impossible to prevent 
one feeling its charm and attraction ; you 
not only experience a pleasure in yielding to its 

(1) Delille. 



^88 THE CHARACTER. 

law, but take delight in condescending to its 
will. 

The one who by dint of care, vigilance and 
effort, influences his own character is the one 
who acquires this precious treasure ; in testing 
himself its value, he has moreover the joy of 
rendering all that surround him happy by 
gaining their affection, and in inspiring them with 
the desire to work to accomplish the same lovely 
results upon themselves, by modelling themselves 
after such a beautiful example. 

II. 

It is in the early years of life that we must ap- 
ply ourselves seriously to form the character of 
a child ; at that age, the bad germs that each one 
possesses at his birth have not yet been able 
to show the depth of their roots, nor to de- 
teriorate his natural faculties ; at the same time 
it is easy to see their budding faults of char- 
acter like so many spots that insensibly diffuse 
themselves , until finally they soon conceal the 
beautiful characteristics of the picture. 

If a mother perceives on the face of her child 



EARLY TRAITS. 289 

a disagreeable spot, does she not hasten to efface 
the blemish ? See how all mothers pay the most 
exact attention to give their children every 
possible exterior grace ; we do that for the body 
only, for that physiognomy of the face that time 
will soon fade ; but for the sonl should we not do 
much more ? Has not the character necessities 
of much higher importance and do they not claim 
the most assiduous care ? 

From its earliest infancy nature shows traits 
of extreme power and significance, and those 
that are readily seized upon. Yes, they are 
there — under the eyes of an attentive observ- 
er — with the good or the bad tendencies of a 
child's character. He is sluggish or sprightly, 
submissive or willful, of a mild and sweet tem- 
per or of perverse inclinations, patient or ex- 
citable and irritable, generous or selfish. A 
little serious scrutiny is sufficient to discover 
these shades, the particular inclinations, and pre- 
dominate faults. 

When once the principle is known which ex- 
erts its pernicious influence over all the faculties, 
and would also change all the lineaments of the 



290 THE CHARACTER. 

physiognomy of the soul, a child must be made 
to comprehend that it is a pernicious germ, 
a lamentable inclination, which is productive 
of all deformity and its consequent evils ; these 
must be shown to him, the beauty and charm 
of a character exempt from this defect, and 
above all tell him and repeat to him. without 
ceasing, that he can correct himself, and that at 
his age it is very easy to do so, and that he cer- 
tainly will correct himself and will acquire the 
qualities which make a beautiful character, on 
one condition only, that is, if he desires so to do, 
s'il le veut. The most important thing then is 
to determine his will and to constantly sustain 
that will by frequent encouragement. One will 
understand readily that religion with its succours 
and graces will here prove the most powerful 
means of reform and of embellishment for the 
character. 

III. 
What trouble is in store for the future of a 
child if he is neglected in the correction and 
formation of his character ? Yicious habits en- 
grave themselves so easily upon their soft and 



RESISTAJTOE TO INCLINATIONS. 291 

tender natures ; age only fortifies them and one 
day perhaps he will be heard to say ; " I cannot 
do otherwise, it is my nature;" indeed his 
soul will be contracted to such a degree that 
all his faculties yielding to this predominant 
and natural inclination will have produced in his 
entire being an irresistible effect which will 
become in some sort second nature. It may 
be a passionate, hasty nature that only listens to 
the gushing of its own impetuosity, leading him 
on to excess unknown to himself, and rendering 
him insupportable: or, by way of contrast, a soft, 
weak disposition, incapable of acting, never find- 
ing pleasure except in repose, an enemy to all 
labor, and to all serious effort, dozing in the 
apathy of a fruitless will; or still another exam- 
ple of an inconsistent and feeble nature, which 
has no stability, which after the most generous im- 
pulses and resolutions made with the greatest sin- 
cerity, abandons a good commencement and re- 
signs itself to a wind which veers it about 
in every direction, a changing character, un- 
dertaking all and acheiving naught ; like a trav- 
eler who sets out a hundred times on his voyage 



292 THE CHARACTER. 

and stops as many, making long detours from 
the actual routes. 

Finally it may be an opioniated nature, hard, 
proud, insensible, and dissimulating : whichever 
quality it may chance to have with its peculiar 
genius, and its own features, this unfortunate 
nature would be infinitely difiicult to modify. 

In this work effort will appear useless ; 
twenty times it will start about correcting itself; 
one will commence and will believe to have 
obtained an effective victory, and twenty times 
the character will reappear under its indomitable 
form, like to the Hydras in the Fable, whose 
heads immediately grew again when cut off, 
like a branch one tries in vain to return to place 
after the fastening is broken ; in vain the hand 
props and essays to fix it ; always ungovernable, it 
rebounds and relaxes ^the moment you cease to 
hold it firm. It is of these neglected characters 
and of these natures which have become rebel- 
lious, that Horace has said : 

"Naturam expella furca tamen usque recurret." 

And Boileau, 

" Chasse le naturel, il revient au Galop." 



THE LITTLE FLAW WITHIN THE LUTE. 293 

La Fontaine has expressed the same thought, 
but in a more piqnante manner, when he says : 

" Qu'on lui ferme la porte au nez, 
II reviendra par les fenetres." 

One fanlt only of character is sometimes 
sufficient to throw into the shade the most 
beantiful qualities ; trifling faults serve to lessen 
esteem for men of the most commanding talent. 
Such men are considered as possessing an 
ordinary talent, while if their character had been 
well formed,they would have been justly consid- 
ered men of superior minds. 

It was that which caused Fenelon to write as 
follows to the Duke De Bourgogne : "Above 
all guard against your predisposition to humor ; 
it is an enemy that must be your constant 
companion, even until death ; it will enter into 
your counsels and betray you if you listen to it. 
Wit and humor cause the most important occa- 
sion to be lost ; they influence the inclinations 
and aversions of children even to the prejudice 
of the gravest interests. They decide the greatest 
affairs with the least reason ; they obscure every 

talent, weaken all courage, and render a man 
19 



294 THE CHARACTER. 

capricious, weak, vicious, and insupportable. 
Distrust this enemy." Such is tlie effect of an 
undisciplined mind. Will it be thought, after 
the above description, that it is of little impor- 
tance to be solicitous about what is commonly 
called only an imperfection of character ? 

It is not sufficient that, in a natural point of 
view, the moral physiognomy may have been 
formed and embellished. The most beautiful 
lustre should take its origin in a higher source. 
Piety must be added to vivify those characteris- 
tics already so graceful, in order to throw upon 
this amiable figure some rays of supernatural 
beauty ; let a celestial influence come to 
complete the picture, in producing a beautiful 
and pious character. 

If one of our great artists was painting accord- 
ing to all the rules of art, a face to which he 
was giving the most lovely expression in his 
power, we would have reason to admire it as a 
chef d'ceuvre ; but let another artist come 
animated with the spirit of christian faith ; it 
maybe, for example, Fra Angelico da Fiesole, the 
pious Dominican, and after having communed a 



THE ARTIST TOUCH. 295 

long time with heaven, he takes liis pencil and 
brush and adds some features to the work of the 
first artist's painting ; what a new expression, what 
a different life is unexpectedly communicated to 
the picture ! it is no longer a natural beauty ; 
exemj^lifying all the rules of the most perfect 
art, it is a beauty all celestial ; a divine breath has 
just passed over this canvas, and communicated 
to it one grace more, which, without changing 
the substructure or the harmony of its charac- 
teristics, gives to it a supernatural truthfulness. 
How beautifully piety affects the character 
of a child. Nothing is changed in what con- 
tributes to the essential ; the foundation of the 
impressions still remains with the distinctive 
inclinations, which are all his own features ; 
but there is a heavenly influence that steals over 
him like a zephyr, bringing a grace which adds 
eclat and embellishment, in fact elevates him to 
a supernatural life. 

One feels that the divine artist has touched 
this chef d' ceuvre, and there left the trace of his 
brush. Xothing is essentially changed, but all 
is adorned, elevated and made heavenly. If his 



296 THE CHARACTER. 

character was spiritual, sprightly and loving it 
still is the same ; if it was sweet and patient, this 
it always remains ; if it was ardent, complacent 
and devoted, it preserves all these qualities un- 
changed ; but they are modified by a christian 
spirit which sanctifies, elevates and ennobles all 
his inclinations. 

" Besides, there are no two men to be found 
that resemble each other perfectly." So we will 
not find two souls in whom piety reproduces 
itself in all points under the same form. Grace, 
according to the beautiful and profound words 
of St. Thomas, does not destroy nature, but 
makes it perfect. 

Is it not an admirable thing to see piety, im- 
movable in its principles, diversified in its mani- 
festations and in its forms, and still so perfect in 
its adaptations to different dispositions and per- 
sons? It is thus it appears to us in the saints, 
according to their various characters ; ardent 
and impetuous as in Paul ; calm, sweet and ten- 
der as in the beloved disciple St. John ; anxious 
and active, as in Martha ; collected and con- 
templative, as in Mary ; firm and constant, as in 



FORMS OF PIETY. 297 

Athanasius ; eloquent and profound, as in Agus- 
tine ; laborious and erudite, as in Benedict and 
his children ; courageous and warlike, as in the 
military orders, who devoted themselves to the 
defense of the holy places against the Infidels ; 
poor, vulgar mendicants, mad with love and 
longing for self-sacrifice, as Francis and his in- 
numerable disciples : it takes from men and 
things all that it finds in unison with it- 
self and constructs the form under which it 
desires to reproduce itself, like the bee who 
builds his cells with the dust and pollen he gath- 
ers from the flowers. But the spirit which lives 
in it suffers no changes. It is always the 
spirit of Christ, that spirit of charity, of devotion 
and of sacrifice, which makes us forget our- 
selves, to live for God and our brother. 

If then we wish to be pious, not only for our- 
selves, but for others — and let it be first for 
ourselves — let us select among the different 
forms of piety, that which is best suited to our 
own character. If God has given us an ardent 
soul, let US not seek to extinguish its fire,but leave 
the breath of the holy spirit to move over it, to 



298 THE CHARACTER. 

preserve it in its ardor. If a share has been 
given US in a rich and active imagination, let lis 
take care not to impoverish or exhaust it. Let 
lis turn towards heaven, and let us hold it there 
exposed to the rajs of that beautiful light which 
eternallj £:ushes from the bosom of God. If we 
have a cool, calm and positive reason, let us not 
seek to illumine a facetious or fictitious fire, nei- 
ther try to affect sentiments in our hearts which 
do not accord with its nature : but follow the 
path which God has marked out for us and 
given us natural inclinations to seek ; as if to 
attract us there. ^ 

From whence comes then, that holy religion 
with its divine influence ? Thus may it come to 
inspire a sweet and tender piety in the child, for 
nothing is better suited to his heart ; nothing is 
more necessary to his life, and nothing is more 
powerful to form and embellish his character. 
"Piety is useful and profitable to all things, 
having promise of the life that now is, and 
that which is to come." And while it seems only 

(1) Pious hours of a young man, by Ch. Sainte Foi. 



THE POETRY OF THE HEART. 299 

made to assure onr immortal destiny, it is still, 
here below, the source of all our joy, of all our 
felicity, and in making lis better, it cannot fail 
to make us happier. " Religion is the poetry 
of the heart, it gives us happiness and virtue^ 
Devotion embellishes the soul, and above all, the 
soul of youth." ^ 
(1) Pens^es de Joubert. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

WORK. 
I. 

Man having come to tlie age where his develop- 
ment is more particularly his own work, should 
find in labor, which is the law of his life, one of 
the most powerful means to perfect himself. 

"Labor elevates the intellect, enlarges the 
heart, fortifies the will, preserves the body, 
and renews the senses ; it is this that sanctifies 
the soul and makes our nature fruitful." For 
this reason nothing is more important in educa- 
tion, than at an early moment to encourage the 
young in serious habits of industry. But, alas ! 
how little this principle is understood ! Some- 
times parents of wealth will be heard to say : 
Our fortune is sufficient, our son has no need to 
work — unfortunate words, but too true ! l^o, 
the child to whom you have never taught the 
necessity of industry, in order to be useful to his 
neighbor, or to make an honorable place and name 



THE LAW OF LABOR. 301 

for himself in the world, will not work. And 
what right has he to refrain from labor ? The 
man, whoever he may be, is he placed on earth 
for no purpose ? '' Man is born to labor, and the 
bird to fly." ^ So true is it that when he does 
not work, ne rien faire^ he forsakes the element 
of his life, and ceases to live as a man. 

Do you not see how every living thing in the 
universe has some employment ? Consider the 
heavens and the earth, vegetation, animals, all 
organized beings ; they labor to exist — it is nature 
at work. To the idler, or the inactive man, the 
Scriptures sa,y : " Go to the ant, O sluggard, 
and consider his ways, and learn wisdom." ^ 

Had this great law of labor not been imposed 
upon man as the habitual expiation of his faults, 
still it would be o^iven to him to exact the 
homage of his being towards the sovereign Lord, 
to whom we must render an account of every 
moment. 

Adam himself, before his fall, enjoyed a 
]3lace of delights, abounding in every good 
thing ; do not believe, however, that God in put- 

(1) Job 5, 7th. (2) ProY. 6, 6tli. 



302 WOKK. 

ting him in this happy situation, and lavishing 
upon him such riches, left him to be idle. ''And 
the Lord God took man and put him into the 
Paradise of pleasure, to dress it and to keep it." ^ 
Certainly it is not to be supposed it was painful or 
fatiguinfij labor, accompanied by lassitude and 
transpiration, as after he had sinned ; in sudore 
vultus tui vesceris pane ; at least it was work. 
A noble and worthy condition of human ex- 
istence ! Adam did not work to procure 
the fruits of the earth, for they were most 
spontaneously lavished upon him, but he worked 
to cultivate his faculties as a man, and enrich his 
life by industry, as the earth is enriched by the 
dews of heaven, for such is the command of God. 
But often it will be said, I have a position 

which is assured to me, I have nothing to do. 

You have nothing to do ? if you please, tell me 
how can that be ? is it because you are rich ? 
Yery well, let me use the words of a pious 
bishop, and say to you : " Because you are paid 
in advance, does that release you from the obliga- 
tion of striving to merit your salary ?" ^ 

(1) Gen. 2, 15th. 

(2) M. Borderies, ancien eveque de Versailles. 



ARISTOCRATIC IDLENESS. 303 

What a useless life most men of tlie world 
live ! They have been young men little habit- 
uated to labor, and finding themselves in a dis- 
tinguished rank of life, consume their fortunes in 
idleness. Visits, soirees, fetes, banquets, frivo- 
lous reading, this is the outline of their insignifi- 
cant existence. 

We often see those who look with disdain 
upon the man who by the sweat of his brow 
gains a scanty subsistance for his little family ! 
Notwithstanding, these poor laborers are in the 
discharge of a great duty, for they work, and the 
bread they eat is bought by an active life, while 
those we condemn here are lost by a shameful 
waste of time. 

Many persons believe themselves sufiiciently 
justified when they assert that their rank obliges 
them to refrain from manual labor. Undoubtedly 
it is necessary to maintain the position 3^ou occupy 
in society and the world, because noblesse oblige. 
That is true, noblesse oblige ; but what to do ? 
to do nothing? — Oh! then, that would be the 
debasement of a nature created for some- 
thing much more worthy ! What ! a noble 



304 WORK. 

rank obliges one to be inactive, useless, seek- 
ing only pleasure, to frequenting theaters, to 
taking unnecessary journeys, and your rank 
obliges you to do nothing but that ! Does it 
oblige you to neglect useful labor, the cares of a 
family, the education of children, the alleviation 
of the poor ? 'No ; it cannot be thus, true 
noblesse is a very different thing ; and the most 
distinguished men of the society of to-day have 
a more worthy comprehension of their duties. 

To those men who by their idleness seem 
to renounce the dignity of a rank which should 
be their glory ; to these rich idlers would we not 
rather have a right to say : Eevery one 
labors for you, and in the midst of the general 
activity you alone do nothing ! And that because 
you enjoy acknowledged rank in society, you 
have a fortune, you have a name ! 

For that name perhaps you are indebted to 
the bravery or industry of your ancestors. Your 
name is not alone sufficient to render you worthy 
of honor. If you do not know how to bear that 
name it will serve to establish a greater contrast 



NAUGHT BUT A NAME. 305 

still between what joxi are, and what yon onght 
to be. 

Go and read that name on the tomb of a trnlj 
worthy parent, and meditate for a moment npon 
the noble, laborious career of the one who left it 
to yon. 

When you leave this sacred spot, the Angel 
who keeps guard at this tomb will not recognize 
you, or will ironically repeat to you this verse of 
Euripides : " Je ne connais de toi que ton non," 
I know nothing of you but your name. 

We might be thankful to God if the lives of 
the greater part of these men could be limited 
to simple uselessness. 

But is it so ? Or can it be so ? Who is the 
one that without labor, will put a bridle upon 
his imagination, senses or passions ? Who will 
say to the tumult in his heart, thus far and no 
farther must you go ? 

If then, c»ne does not choose a real good, and 
occupy himself in useful labor and laudable 
activity, and does not put forth all his strength 
in this direction, it is greatly to be feared that, 
in order to supply tliis yearning void, he will 



306 WORK. 

throw liimself into vicious lial)its. It is impossi- 
ble to tell where idleness may lead/ For it is 
the motlier of every vice. 

The least desire that l)reathes npon the heart 
enfeebled by idleness is sufficient to overthrow 
it ; the least j)assion that ensnares it suffices to 
lead it astray. 

In this state the mind soon becomes blunted^ 
the thoughts discolored, the imagination tarnish- 
ed, the heart withered, the will slothful, the 
character enervated ; the senses exalt themselves, 
beyond measure, and the spiritual man grows 
less, until life seems to seek refuge wholly in the 
body, the care of which becomes the only 
occupation and labor of the day. 

If the young and intelligent christian would 
understand wliat could he accomplished by labor, 
all would be gained, and if in place of seeking 
his happiness in the joys and pleasures of the 
passing moments he would turn his eyes and 
extend his arms unceasingly toward the future, 
which calls and attracts — for the actions and 



(1) Multam malitiam docuit otiositas. Eel., 33, 39th. 
For idleness has tau2:ht much evil. 



READING. 307 

life of new generations ^^I'^pare the events 
which must come later. — And in the breast of 
every young man are contained the germs of 
springing hopes, or dark misfortunes ! 



There is work that is always easy and brings 
but little fatigue, and that is reading ; not acci- 
dental reading, but reading consecutively well 
selected authors ; one will acquire in tins manner 
and without trouble, a fund of knowledge from 
which he deiives nothing but pleasure. Reading 
is quite sufficient to determine, nourish, elevate, 
and purify the intellect ; and it is truly surpris- 
ing how a rich man, with a library at his com- 
mand, can become depressed in spirit or 
perverted in character. Idleness is the great 
source of degeneracy : and reading, notwith- 
standing it requires but little exertion, still is 
proof against its deleterious effects. At the 
same time there is one tiling to be done. 

A young man, however well established he 
may be in a solid education, cannot read books 
indiscriminately selected. The following is what 



308 WORK. 

p. Lacordaire has written to a young man 
on this subject : "It does not give me much 
pleasure to know that you read such books as you 
speak of to me; witliout doubt you are no longer 
a child, but at any age this poison is always dan- 
gerous. What work has Yoltaire to interest you 
after you have read his dramatic chefs d'oeuvre ? 
are they his naratives, his philosophical dic- 
tionary, his essays upon the manners of na- 
tions, and that nameless multitude of pamphlets 
thrown broadcast at every turn against the new 
Evangelists and the church ? Twenty pages are 
sufficient to appreciate their literary merit and 
their moral and philosophical poverty. From 
the age of seventeen to eighteen years I read 
that collection of a debauched mind, and never 
since have I been tempted to open one volume, 
not from fear, it is true, that they might do me 
harm, but from a profound sentiment of their 
unworthiness. Apart from the necessity of 
research in a useful point of view, we should 
only read the accepted works of great authors. 
We have no time to read others. For a still 
greater reason we should avoid these writings 



PERNICIOUS BOOKS. 309 

that are sewers to the human intelligence and 
which, notwithstanding their flowery embellish- 
ments, are only covers for friglitful corruption. 
The same reason that an honest man avoids in- 
tercourse with women of bad manners and dis- 
honest men, for the very same reason should a 
christian avoid reading works that have a bad 
influence upon mankind. Rousseau is better 
than Yoltaire, he has beautiful and generous 
sentiments and does not despise his author. Tliis 
charm is useful sometimes to young people who 
have no respect for anything higher, but they 
possess very little interest for a soul that has ex- 
perienced the love of Jesus Christ." ^ 

Idleness even among the well instructed peo- 
ple of the world, is already a deplorable fact, and 
the source of great evil. Mme. de Maintenon in 
writing from Yersailles to Mme. de Quelen: "We 
lead a singular life here. In our surroundings 
we desire to meet persons whose minds are culti- 
vated and accomplished, with genius and refined 
manners, in all of which we are entirely want- 
ing. Playing, yawning, gathering up and com- 

(1) L. P. Lacordaire's letters to young people. 
20 



310 WORK. 

meriting upon some unfortunate incidents among 
themselves, hating, envying, now caressing and 
again tearing each other to pieces." What can 
we expect when we meet idleness and ignorance 
combined ? 

What future is in store for a youth who does 
not early learn to love labor and look upon it as 
a sacred duty, as also the great means of devel- 
oping the beautiful germs of his life ? 

Bossuet said to the son of Louis XIY : " It is 
not without reason, and of which you are to 
make no use, that God has given to you intelli- 
gence and all tliose noble faculties which produce 
enlightenment. Do not commence a life in neg- 
ligence and idleness, which should be occupied 
and active. If you make such a beginning — 
having been born with large capacities — ^you 
must impute to yourself the extinction or use- 
lessness of those admirable gifts, whose wealth 
came to you from God. For what purpose then 
will the weapons with which he has furnished 
you be made if you make no use of them ? 
Of what service will a well stored mind be to 
you if you do not employ or make an applica- 



PLAY ONLY FOR RECREATION. 311 

tion of it ? So miicli greater will be jour loss, 
for the shameful passions will come to assert 
their power." 

It is extremely important then, to habituate 
children to regular and assiduous work. Louis 
XIY came to know through his own 
experience, the misfortune of a neglected educa- 
tion. And he desired that the time of the 
Dauphin should be well employed. Bossuet 
wrote to Pope Innocent XI : " The law that 
the King imposed upon him was not to let one 
day pass without study. He considers that there 
is a marked difference between remaining all 
day without work, and taking some diversion in 
order to relax the mind. It is necessary that a 
child should play and make himself happy ; that 
excites him ; but it is not necessary to abandon 
himself to play or to pleasure, so that each day 
he may not be recalled to more serious things, 
for study languishes if it is too often interrupt- 
ed." 

Why do illustrious names disappear and are 
forgotten ? Follow up the source and you will 
very often find an effeminate life, or a slothful 



312 WORK. 

education wanting in laborious efforts, are the 
principle causes. It is this want of application 
to labor that has been the cause of so many- 
unworthy heirs losing the patrimony or honors 
which they have received from their fathers ; it 
is this need of labor, which like a crawling 
worm noiselessly undermined and caused to 
crumble those fortunes which seemed so well 
established. 

On the contrary, what a noble sentiment one 
still reads over the door of the house that was 
inhabited by Joan of Arc, in Douremy ; " Yive- 
labeur !" All hail to labor ! yes, all hail to 
labor ! because it is the Divine will, and the 
condition of our nature. But also let us say, 
all hail to labor ! because it has a charm, a happi- 
ness ; because it is the introduction to virtue, and 
its safeguard ; because it has the most useful 
influence on the character to strengthen the 
will. All hail to labor ! then because it is the 
vocation of all men, rich or poor. 

The Son of God in coming upon this earth, 
did not wish to exempt himself from labor! 
Look at that simple cottage where, concealed 



CHRIST A CARPENTER. 313 

with His humble parents, He led, during so 
many long years, the most obscure life. What 
did He do, who was not only the Son of Kings, 
and of patriarchs, but the son of God himself ? 
" See Him," says Bossuet, '* It is not a 
learned brush He wields. He loves the 
painful and humble exercise of the mechanic 
who labors for the means of existence. It is not 
the savant's pen that he uses to produce beauti- 
ful ideas ! 'No, he labors to earn this living ! 
He accomplishes, praises, and blesses the good- 
ness of God by his labors ! What an example ! 
Who, at this spectacle, is not moved and con- 
founded ? ^ 

ni 

The species of work we have in view more 
particularly in this chapter is study ; be it literary, 
scientific,or study of the living languages, finally, 
all that can cultivate the faculties of the soul, 
and give us useful knowledge. 

Of all ambitions, that of study is the most 

(1) St. Paul does not fear to place this condemnation on 
idleness: "For also, when we were with you, we declared 
this to you : that if any man will not work, neither let 
him eat." II Thess., Ill, 10. 



314 WORK. 

constant, and the least apt to become distasteful. 
Study itself, of all occupations, is the one 
which procures for those who attach themselves 
to it, the most attractive pleasure. "Nothing 
is more proper to dissipate troubles of the heart 
and to re-establish perfect harmony in the soul, 
than study ; when fatigued by the storms of the 
world, you seek refuge in the sanctuary of the 
muses, you feel that you have entered a tranquil 
state, whose benign influence soon calms your 
mind." ' 

What shall I say of the immense resources 
reading offers to us, and the numberless a-dvan- 
tages it is able to afford us? "Reading good 
books is like holding conversation with the most 
respectable people of past centuries, who have 
been the authors of them, and besides a matured 
conversation in which we discover the best 
thoughts." ^ It often happens that the work of 
an entire life is gathered in a few hours by 
reading a good book. From the moment that 
a man seeks his pleasure in cultivating his mind, 

(1) Chateaubriand. (2) Descartes. 



THE LOVE OF LETTERS. 315 

he feels no longer the weight of time, and the 
pleasure he finds in the bosom of his retreat are 
in a measure magical. He lives in the century 
which seems most preferable to him ; he crosses 
the distance which separates him from from the 
places he wishes to know ; he interrogates the 
greatest men of all ages and all countries, and his 
interviews with them cease or change object, as 
often as he desires." ^ During the entire life 
the cultivation of ourselves by study, reading 
and the love of letters, will be a great means of 
education which will still contribute to our 
progress and render us happy, even in the most 
advanced age. Who can read unmoved the elo- 
quent discription given by P. Lacordaire of the 
last years of General Drouot, and of that generous 
and Christian life, whose " triple love was the 
incorruptible and immortal habitation of the 
love of letters, the love of men, and the love of 
God?" 

" When I say — love of letters — do I surprise 
or astonish any of my auditors ? are we so far 
distant already from the times when letters were 

(1) Droz. 



3^16 WORK. 

cultivated from pure love of tliem, and were a 
distinguishing passion with all those imbued 
with noble natures ? are the number of delicate 
and serious minds diminishing for whom literary 
pursuits are quite another thing than the vague 
reminiscence of youth or a vulgar occupation? 
I dare not believe it ; I cannot persuade myself, 
notwithstanding the numerous affecting signs we 
see — that we are upon the brink of decay, and 
that the sacred battalion of the elite of intelli- 
gence are daily thinned with irreparable losses. 
" General Drouot had learned in the laborious 
studies of his youth that ancient love for earthly 
knowledge. A book of excellence was for him 
a living being with whom he conversed ; an even- 
ing friend admitted to familiar intercourse. To 
think of reading a truthful book, take it, lay 
it down upon the table, bathe himself in its per- 
fume, breathe its substance, was for him, as for 
all souls initiated into this order of joys, an 
innocent and pure delight. Time speeds in this 
charming entertainment of thought with superior 
thought. Tears moisten the eyes ; and we thank 
God who has been so powerful and good as to 



A SCHOOL OF Si'RRIETY. 317 

give to the rapid effusions of the mind the dura- 
bility of bronze, and a life of truth. Let us ask 
no more what animated the solitude of the 
veteran of the Grand Army, and gave a charm 
to the hours which the lapse of years had 
brought him to ; while we live in the present he 
was livino^ in all ao^es ; while we live in the re- 
gions of interest, he lived in the sphere of the 
beautiful ; a rare and excellent life, because 
taste is not alone sufficient: we must have heart 
and virtue. It is not without reason that authors 
dignify it with the title of worship; and as de- 
votion to strict honor is often called the religion 
of honor, so, also, we may call devotion to society 
the religion of letters." 

Labor, of whatever nature, offers to us the 
most precious advantages ; it captivates the 
senses, and subjects them to salutary rules ; it is 
a school of sobriety and temperance ; by it the 
storms of passion are appeased and overcome ; it 
dissipates vain delusions and turns away from 
vague reveries, awakening us to the realities of 
Hfe. 

Work has still other excellent results : it cul- 



318 WORK. 

tivates attention by the application it demands ; 
it exercises in precision, method, and perse- 
verance. 

Work surrounds us with worthy protectresses, 
those desires of the heart which would lead u& 
to so great a distance ! It comes to the succour 
of religion to maintain us in order and duty. 
By the aid of work, then, man is powerfully de- 
fended against the attacks of passion. Here his 
weakness finds a refuge, his effeminancy a rem- 
edy ; from hence he draws that vigor of will 
which, aloije, renders him capable of great things. 
So the laboring man in the working class, what- 
ever be the disdain our prejudices may cast upon 
their modest occupation, experiences ordinarily a 
noble pride, an interior contentment, sweet and 
legitimate, of which the wealthy and aristo- 
cratic have bnt little conception. 

Finally, labor is the school of resignation ; it 
teaches us our dependence ; it corrects and mod- 
erates our vanity ; it is a long and lasting com- 
mentary, that great truth which makes us look 
upon life as a continual perfecting, a great ex- 
perience, and a salutary expiation. 



A PLAJSTET, NOT A METEOR. 31^ 

It is then a stern duty for each one of us to 
utilize our life by work; so far from the elevation 
of rank and fortune being exempted from this 
duty, on the contrary, it seems to me the motive 
becomes still more powerful. 

Oh ! you men who shine in the world by your 
name and dignities, consider that your greatest 
glory will be, to have rendered your life faithful 
by useful industry. Do not imitate the shooting 
stars, that for a moment illuminate the sky, and 
disappear, extinguished, without leaving one 
trace of their passage. 

Above all, bring up the children that Provi- 
dence has given you, and whose happiness you 
80 ardently desire, in the love and practice of 
labor, and say to them in the language of the 
Shepherd, when he addressed himself to a young 
child : My son, obey. 

" Si tu brillais sans ^tre utile, 
Au jour de ta mort on dirait; 
Ce n'est qu'une etoile qui file, 
Qui file file et disparait." 



EPILOGUE. 

We have endeavored to show that education 
IS a work of development and formation ; that 
it embraces the whole man, his mind, his heart, 
his different faculties, manners, and language ; 
that it should be as religious, as solid, and that 
it has no limit of duration, except that of life 
itself. 

We think we have been understood bj those 
who have true affection for the young, and above 
all by parents whose happiness is so closely 
allied to the proper education of their children. 
Oh ! if a father and mother knew all that they 
might do to assure the happiness of those who 
are indebted to them for their earthly existence, 
if they could see what a decisive influence they 
have upon their lives, above all during the early 
years of man, and principally upon that of his 
youth, what would they not do to form the young 
soul under the two-fold connection of science 
and virtue ! 



322 EPILOGUE. 

Leonide, the father of Origene, loved to ap- 
proach his son, (while still a child), in his sleep, 
looking upon him sometime in silence, then 
opening, with precaution, his linen garment ,and 
kissing tenderly and with respect, his breast, the 
amiable sanctuary of God and innocence, embel- 
lished with all the riches of grace. And then 
while thinking of his future he would deliver him- 
self in turn to fear and hope, and in ardent 
prayer recommend to God the child of his love. 

How many times like Leonide do a father 
and mother pray and perhaps weep over the bed 
of their child ! The future presents itself to 
them sometimes sad, often joyous, but always 
mingled with misgivings. Who can tell all 
the solicitude, all the agony of these devoted and 
tender hearts, in view of their child's future ? 
Ah ! then it is to God they should address them- 
selves ; yes, pray with ardor that the real spirit 
of education may be diffused and established in 
their hearts, ; pray to God that he will give to 
their children masters filled with tact and zeal, 
to the end that they may act, for education is 
essentially a work of action. 



EPILOGUE. 323 

Above all should they make it a duty to choose 
for their children colleges where religion pre- 
sides, where not only instruction is given, but 
an education a thousand times more precious, 
for there they will find serious and assured 
guaranties for the future. 

The words of M. de Bonald, in instruction for 
the people may equally be applied to youth : 
" Little for pleasure, enough for all things neces- 
sary, and all for their virtue." 

Let families seriously meditate upon these 
words of the Holy Spirit. The young man 
will follow in later life the ways of his youth, 
and even in old age will continue to walk 
therein ! 

Finally, we would say, that we feel the work 
we have undertaken still remains imperfect ; at 
the same time we do not reproach ourselves with 
brevity in treating^ so important a subject. We 
have acted thus in order to keep in view the 
purpose we had in presenting this book to the 
public, which was to indicate a plan, to lay out a 
path, and show the spirit of the work. 

We have endeavored constantly to ignore all 



324 EPILOGUE. 

polemics or useless discussions, all violent attacks 
or bitter criticism ; nevertheless, if unknown to 
ourselves, we have appeared to pass over the 
limits of a most rigorous moderation, we- 
hasten to declare that such has never been our 
intention, and besides that, we desire to acknowl- 
edge, and know how to appreciate all effort made 
by whomsoever, whose end in view is to instruct 
the youth, even in houses where religious in- 
struction may not be the controlling principle. 

While expressing the most lively desire to see 
revived the work of education in France and 
elsewhere, we are very far from restricting that 
wish to the degree that none but priests of reli- 
gion are the only men capable of realizing that 
object. 

Certainly the sacerdotal order have a grace and 
mission to educate the young, to cultivate his 
mind and heart, form his character, and prepare 
his future. But that is not to say they should 
have the monopoly of that great work, nor that 
men well-instructed and profoundly Christian 
should be excluded from this noble task, when 



EPILOGLTE. 325 

they have taste and aptitude, accompanied with a 
generous devotion to their duties. 

On the contrary, may such men be multiplied 
who desire to aid in the proper training of 
youth ; let all, be they laymen or clergy, work 
with ardor to reconstruct that great edifice, ac- 
cording to one plan and in the same spirit. To 
this revival of education, society will owe its 
salvation, its life, and its happiness. 



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LIBRARY OF 



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